


Fire & Leeches

by Ryuki



Category: The Arcana (Visual Novel)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Drunken Flirting, F/M, Flirting, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-01-18 12:47:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 21,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12388380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ryuki/pseuds/Ryuki
Summary: Modern!AU (with magic.) Xixa is… well, not really enjoying but not hating a night out with Asra at one of Vesuvia’s famed clubs. However, her curiosity and interest become piqued when a particular band takes the stage.





	1. Tight Pants

Friday night. Party night pretty much everywhere. Especially in Vesuvia’s famed club: The Garden. Xixa perched on a tall stool, sipping at an alcohol-infused orange soda. To be perfectly honest, this wasn’t her scene. Others chattered away, in flocks, breezing from group to group. Even from her little corner, she spotted more sequins, sheer material, and tight pants than she’d seen… well, ever.

It wasn’t that Xixa was a prude and she had nothing against exuberant social outings, but she had focused so much time on the little mystical store and studying magic. Between general day-to-day upkeep and various divination readings, Xixa didn’t feel much need or have much energy to socialize in noisy settings. Not that she had much of anyone to socialize with, either.

However, her roommate/co-worker had finally returned from one of his many road trips. She had agreed to grudgingly celebrate, despite all the work that had to be done. Xixa had already heard, over the last two days, every minute detail of his last journey. Not that she didn’t love hearing about his journeys, but there was only so many times you can listen to a man talk about how delicious blue-tailed skink was before you worried he’d land it on the endangered species list.

On the stage, the warm-up band had finished their set. The performers bowed while the emcee took the stage. “Weren’t they awesome? Now, welcome back to the stage, the Fire & Leeches!”

Across the table, Asra stiffened, his lip curling in disgust. “Ugh,  _he’s_ playing?”

The sudden shift in temperature around the table caught Xixa’s attention. Her gaze flickered to her roommate, curious about the sudden chill in the air. ‘He?’ Did Asra mean… “Your ex?”

Her roommate sniffed and shifted. “Yeah.”

Xixa sighed after a sip of her weak alcohol. The desire to leave fought with her eternal curiosity. It wouldn’t do to make him stay, though. He’d be a quiet grouch for the rest of the night, if not week. “I’m sorry, Asra. Do you want to leave?”

“No, I’m not going to let him ruin my night,” groused the white-haired man. Nonetheless he dismissed himself to use the restroom.

As Asra took off, weaving his way through the thick crowd, Xixa sighed. A quiet bubble descended around her while everyone else gossiped and guffawed. Though it wasn’t her scene, having  _someone_  to talk to would have been nice.

After a few parting words from the previous act, and the band bumbling off the stage, the lights dimmed. Three figures took the stage, prepping their equipment. Xixa took mental notes of the members, reaching out her intuition to gently read their auras.

An extremely tall, muscular figure stood near the back, fiddling with a guitar. Their long hair was pulled into a messy bun, but long bangs framed their square face. Dark green hovered around him and, in Xixa’s intuition, wolves fluttered about. No, Asra described his ex as a redhead.

The second person on stage tossed his dark, long braid behind his back as he adjusted his strap to his bass. His muddled seemed muted, possibly from own innate ability. Or he was good at hiding himself. Either way, he wasn’t a redhead, so Xixa moved on.

Another band member – curly red hair pulled into a ponytail and streaked with blue, matching her eyes – sat behind the drum set, twirling a drumstick and calling out laughingly to someone still behind the curtain. Well, unless Xixa had completely misunderstood Asra, that wasn’t him either.

So, that meant he was still behind the curtain.

The drummer rapped her sticks together, jolting conversations to a halt and drawing slightly irritated gazes her way. Though, there seemed to be a breathless anticipation.

“Hey, ya drunken fuckers!” The drummer grinned as some of the groupies in the crowd cheered. “My name’s Portia and we’re the Leeches…” She indicated herself and the other two with the drumsticks. The big one didn’t seem to notice or care, however, the bassist frowned deeply at the name. “Fire is having a wardrobe malfunction backstage, so it’ll be a few minutes. Sorry about the delay.”

Xixa and others chuckled at the announcement. Someone flung out a half-muffled quip from across the room. The redhead on stage laughed and pointed to whoever it was, nodding her head animated.

“Can I go help him?” shrieked some woman near Xixa’s table.

A tall figure finally stumbled on stage, glaring daggers at the drummer. He was tall, but not quite as tall as Muscles. Lithe with broad shoulders, dressed in all black – with a  _particularly_  tight pair of pants – Xixa could grudgingly see where the screaming woman was coming from. His curly red hair fell over an eye patch, prompting Xixa to wonder if the patch was necessary or a gimmick. A guitar bounced against his hip as he took his position at the front of the group, wrapping his fingers around the mic stand.

“Sorry about that,” he muttered, hovering close to the mic. A charming smile quickly slid over his lips. “You all know us, we’re Fire & Leeches. If this is your first time, though, we’ll be gentle.” The man winked to the audience. Xixa hid her amused smile by taking a drink of her orange soda.  _What a dork_.

About three songs into their set, Xixa surprised herself by enjoying Fire & Leeches. She found herself nodding to the rhythm or tapping her fingertips to the songs more than once. Plenty in the crowd seemed to be great fans, shouting out lyrics or requesting specific songs. They weren’t a bad band.

Somewhere in her chest, she felt as if she was betraying Asra. However, she reminded herself enjoying a band wasn’t a deception. Though, she did find her eyes drifting back to the redheaded guitarist, who also acted as the lead vocalist, quite often. Something about his lips was alluring. In between lyrics, he had a habit of biting his lower lip as his long, nimble fingers plucked away at the guitar. Imagining how deft those fingers were, Xixa knew why Asra got involved with him. Well, on the surface, at least. Realizing her mind was drifting, the woman shook her head.

At the thought of Asra, Xixa glanced around. He had left for the restroom a long time ago. Had he gone to refill his expensive drink? That was likely. Another likely outcome was he ran into someone who hadn’t heard about his latest trip. Xixa decided to wait until the band was finished. There were many more bodies crowded into the room since Fire & Leeches began.

The band finished up their last three songs with Xixa worriedly checking her phone for a text from Asra. As they made their closing remarks, people whooped and cheered and applauded. Xixa joined in with a bit of clapping.

From across the table, a sour voice registered, “Guess he’s popular.”

Xixa turned quickly, slightly shocked to find Asra in his seat with a refreshed drink. She had been looking out for him. How could he just slip in without being noticed? He brought with him a shadowy, negative aura as he watched the band finish cleaning up their equipment. Xixa threw a sidelong glance at the redheaded guitarist, itching to ask Asra if that man was his ex. Getting anything out of her roomie tended to be like pulling teeth. Asra muttered, as if reading Xixa’s mind, “Yes, guy with the eye patch.”

“Oh,” Xixa replied, a little awkwardly. She fiddled with the bottle of her drink, long drained, as she scrabbled for something to say.  _Sorry your ex is popular with fans, but – to be fair – he’s hot_? Yeah, that’d go over swimmingly. Asra would be petulant over the next couple days, perhaps even schedule another road trip. The thought of being without her roommate brought a dreadful knot to her stomach. Xixa settled on asking about his absence. “What took you so long?”

“Ah, I ran into some old friends,” Asra replied, waving his hand dismissively. “I think I’m going to head home. My head is hurting.”

“What about your drink?” Xixa bit her cheek, realizing she sounded a little desperate to stay.

He gave a non-committal shrug as he stood. As he gathered his jacket and bag, his purple gaze swept over Xixa’s form, still seated. Asra tilted his head toward her, eyebrows raised, “You coming?”

“No, I’m enjoying people watching.” While that wasn’t entirely true, it wasn’t wrong. She was enjoying watching the patrons of The Garden. Especially that redheaded singer.

A look of confusion passed over her companion’s face. She couldn’t blame him for that look. Enjoying being in a crowded space – loud, full of inebriation, dark – without him wasn’t usually something she’d do. Then again, she didn’t usually get a chance to pry another person for information about Asra.

“All right.” The look of concerned bewilderment lingered, but Asra started his way for the door, throwing Xixa one last wave. When the white-haired man was out of sight, Xixa glanced back to the stage. It was dead empty.  _Dammit_.

Her chin in her hand, Xixa tapped a finger against her lips. Well, she couldn’t call a cab this soon after Asra left. Sighing, she grabbed Asra’s abandoned cocktail. Taking a sip – wincing at the alcohol content – Xixa wondered what she should do to pass the time. People watching in the bar only garnered so much amusement. Maybe another band would take the stage.

Lost in thought, she almost didn’t notice the man carrying an armful of beer. Well, not until he got stopped by a fluttering fan _right by her table_. Well, it seemed fate was on her side.

“Julian, the show was fabulous tonight!” A fan gushed, fluttering their eyelashes.

“Thank you, but it wouldn’t be a show without such a beautiful audience.”

Xixa covered her mouth, hiding the smile and biting down a laugh. She hadn’t known someone with such a penchant for sweet talk before.

The fan leaned closer to the man, a flirtatious smile stretched over her lips. “I was just wondering what kind of wardrobe malfunction you suffered, backstage.”

“Oh, uh, you know, zippers…” His ears pinked as he fumbled with the bottles in his hands, slightly embarrassed about his earlier snafu being brought up.

“Is that so?” Eyes trailed down the man’s body, plainly lascivious. Her eyes lingered at the crotch of his pants. “I can kiss any injuries better, you know.”

Xixa couldn’t help the laugh that popped out of her mouth. The redhead jumped, startled by the sudden sound, and dropped a couple beers. A cuss flew from his mouth a second before the glass bottles smashed on the floor.

Except, the bottles didn’t smash. They hovered in the air - encased in a gentle glow - a microsecond from the ground. Xixa leaned over, plucking both bottles from their levitated positions.

“Thanks.” Xixa thought a tone of wonder and curiosity filled the redhead’s voice. When she looked up at him, his ears looked about ready to burn off.

“No problem.” She smiled, about to hand him the bottles, before she realized he had very little room in his arms. A tingle crawled over Xixa’s body as he continued to intensely stare. Clearing her throat, the woman nodded toward the bottles he held. “It looks like you could use a hand.”

“An extra hand is always welcome,” he grinned. Xixa wasn’t sure if he meant for the slight double entendre or if she was just being a horndog. So, why not assume both?

Sliding out of her chair, Xixa made sure to gather up her purse and the beer, before turning to the man.  _Dear_   _lord, he was tall._ She shoved the fluttering nerves away and smiled at him. “Lead the way.”

As the two started toward backstage, the fan popped in front of them, having been ignored for too long. “I can help, too!”

“I think we got it.” This time, he didn’t even stop. He simply sidled passed the fan, tossing her a charming smile as he managed by. “Always a pleasure to see you at a show, Fieura.”

Despite Fieura’s glare at the back of her neck, a sense of success radiated inside Xixa. She attributed the fluttery feeling to finally getting a chance to get more information on Asra. Though, her subconscious was starting to believe she had more reasons than prying,as her eyes trailed down her companion’s back to… assets currently on display in those famed tight pants.


	2. Esotericana

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After aiding the lead singer in avoiding an overeager fan, Xixa meets with the rest of the band backstage. Things are said, alcohol-assisted flirting is done, mistakes are made.

The back area was a lot larger than Xixa thought. Grey hallways, much different from the warm and colorful designs of the main areas, twisted and turned in a small labyrinth. However, her companion navigated it with a sense of familiarity, and soon they were at a slightly ajar dressing room door.

He kicked it further open and announced, cheerfully, “I’m back!”

Xixa poked her head into room, drinking in the details. In a palette of blues and greens, it wasn’t quite the luxurious room the witch was imagining. A large, brightly lit vanity nearly took up an entire wall, reflecting the innards of the room. Posters plastered the walls, some torn and some autographed. Racks of clothes and costumes lined the wall across from the door; ribbons, sequins, neon colors, and more. The scent of cigarette smoke clung to the walls, though none of the current members seemed to be partaking.

The rest his band mates lounged on various bits of threadbare furniture in the room. The drummer claimed an armchair to herself, legs dangling over one arm while she rested her back against the other. Sitting on the couch, quiet and strangely easy to overlook, the hulking guitarist sat, reading a book.

“Ugh, you brought a groupie back here?” And that left Braid, who sat straight on the lumpy couch, long legs crossed before him. His nose wrinkled as his eyes flickered over Xixa. A sudden wave of embarrassment flashed over her. This was silly. They were probably tired from their show and didn’t want to deal with her. Plus, she wasn’t anticipating  _all_ of them being present when she tried her subtle interrogation on Asra’s ex.

“Shut up, Rius, at least he got the drinks without any more ‘malfunctions.’” The other woman hopped up from her chair, snatching a beer before they could even be set down. Xixa followed her companion further into the room, still holding her own share of the drinks. Following his motions, she set the extra bottles onto the coffee table.

“She helped me avoid Fieura. This is…” The redhead trailed off, eye widening and his ears pinking with embarrassment. He glanced toward Xixa, apology quirking his brows. “I didn’t catch your name.”

‘Rius’ reached over to snatch one of the fancier bottles from the clustered drinks and sniffed, “Shameless.”

“Xixa,” she answered, ignoring Braid’s aside. Apparently, he had opinions about Julian bringing fans to the back. Or maybe it the comment was aimed toward her. She didn’t care, either way.

“Well, you know Julian,  _I’m sure_.” The redheaded woman grinned as she leaned toward Xixa, her blue eyes sparkling with a teasing glint. Xixa wasn’t sure she completely understood the teasing nature, but smiled anyway. Satisfied with the reaction, the other woman went on, indicating herself and the others in the room with a sweep of her hand, “I’m Portia. Big ‘n tall over there is Muriel and this lush here is Valerius.”

Xixa nodded as the introductions were made, waving a little uselessly. Well, now what? God, she was so awkward. And her head felt fuzzy.

Julian swaggered to the empty spot on the couch, drink in hand. His long legs splayed out before him, pants tight along his thighs and… other areas. After a gulp of his drink, he motioned to the room at large with a friendly grin, “Sit wherever you’d like, Xixa.”

 _Wherever?_  Her brain tittered at the thought, eyeing his lap. The cushioned stool, squatting beneath the brightly lit vanity table, was probably the safer bet. But, something buzzed, goading, in her synapses. Before she could talk down the mischief lighting along her thoughts, Xixa found herself crossing the room and lowering herself to one of his legs.

The man nearly choked on his drink. A dark red blush crawling over his face as he moved a hand over his mouth, covering his sputters.

“Oh, she’s got your number, Jules.” Portia snickered from behind her bottle. Valerius made a disgusted gagging sound, but didn’t say a word. Muriel still hadn’t looked up from his book.

“You  _did_  say anywhere,” Xixa smiled, with overt mock-innocence. “But I’m sure this is uncomfortable for you.” 

Just as she shifted to move, Julian’s free arm snaked out behind her waist, hand landing on her hip with a squeeze. A hot jolt of inexplicable delight shot to her core. His eye stared into her face, the gaze somehow intense but soft, “No, it’s fine.”

A thrill shot down Xixa’s body. What had she gotten herself into?

Before either of them could forget the audience present, Portia broke the moment. “So, how’d you like the show, Xixa?”

“I enjoyed it,” Xixa looked over to Portia, relieved to tear her gaze away from Julian. Portia had flopped back down into the armchair. As Xixa shifted, Julian adjusted his hold slightly to steady her. The witch wracked her brain for things to say. What did you tell a band without sounding like a huge kiss-ass? “This was the first time I’ve seen you guys perform, but it seems you have a pretty decent fan base.”

Halfway through his second beer already, Valerius made a sucking sound against his teeth and groused, “It’d be larger if someone kept it in their pants.”

“After the delay today,” Xixa caught Julian’s eye, the corner of her lips quirked into a grin, “It sounds like he has a lot of problems with pants.”

The lead singer flushed, averting his gaze as he took a gulp of his beer. Across the room, Portia snickered. The witch was beginning to relax. This socializing thing was so hard! Or maybe that was just the synapses, still buzzing with alcohol.

“Ugh, please don’t tell him to take them off,” Valerius heaved a sigh, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He chugged the rest of his drink, making his way to a third bottle.

“Maybe we should save that for a show one day,” Portia chimed in with a slight cackle. “Bet that’d up our fan numbers.”

Ignoring his bandmates’ jabs, Julian squeezed Xixa’s hip, asking with an incline of his head, “What else did you think?”

“Well, I’m not really musically minded, to be honest. So, take what I say with a grain of salt,” somewhere in the back of her mind, she was freaking out. This was too much attention on her, especially on her opinion of something she had no clue about. Alcohol-infused synapses spurred on her words and opinions, though. “The imagery in the lyrics appealed to me, like:  _Noose around my neck, starstrand in hand, / I take a swan dive and find a more forgiving land_. But there  _were_  a lot of lines that reminded me of high school poetry.”

Her answer was greeted with silence. Glancing around awkwardly, she worried she’d said something that upset them. Portia grinned around her beer, amusement dancing in her eyes. Muriel raised their book, obscuring their face from view. Julian shifted awkwardly. Despite feeling she had made a misstep, her mouth continued talking. “Big Heart, Big Tiddies got a catchy beat, too.”

A peal of laughter cascaded from Portia, kicking her legs out and banging an amused tattoo on the floor. “You just came for our creative throats then try to assuage us by saying our jokiest song is catchy. I can’t with you!”

“So, what do  _you_  do, then?” Valerius asked, an icy edge to his voice. Xixa recognized that tone. That was the ‘does your job give you the right to have such high opinions’ tone. She’d heard it more than a few times while working at her store.

“I work in an occult store.” It never occurred to Xixa that this could be greeted with awkwardness or, even, hostility. Magic was abundant and Vesuvia, being a rather large city, had its fair share of magicians, witches, warlocks, and the like. However, Julian’s body tensed under her. The others in the room shifted uneasily. There was a sudden dusting of instability in the amused atmosphere. For the first time, since Xixa entered, Muriel slowly lowered their book and turned to look at her.

Julian cleared his throat, as if trying to dislodge something there, before asking, “Which store?”

Alarms keened in the back of her head. There was a subtle tenseness to the man, now. As if he were an animal ready to fight or flee. For a split second, Xixa debated on lying or making up a name. But habit got the better of her. “Esotericana.”

Julian all but shoved her off his lap and stood, quietly leaving the room. Xixa stumbled, but didn’t fall. She threw him a confused look. He didn’t even look back. A deathly quiet descended on the room. An almost electric distaste filled the air. Even in Xixa’s state, she could feel the auras in the room take on a negative vibe.

“Alright,” Portia stood, all smiles and grins gone. She grabbed Xixa by her elbow, hauling the woman to the door with surprising strength. “I think you’ve stayed long enough.”

xxx

The sounds of The Garden blared into Xixa’s ears as Portia shoved her out of the door. A jarring difference from the quiet, enjoyable back area. Ambient body heat, loud laughter, music over the speakers. It was all too much input, now.

Portia grabbed Xixa by the collar of her shirt, lips curled into a snarl. “If that bastard sent you to do anything to my brother–”

“Who?” It took Xixa a moment to realize ‘brother’ meant Julian and ‘bastard’ meant Asra.

“Oooh, I swear–” Portia held up a first under Xixa’s nose.

“No, no, no.” Xixa held up her hands. Her head swam with wobbly thoughts, but she had enough wits about her to figure out the situation. Rubbing the palms of her hands against her eyes, she muttered an apology, “I don’t drink a lot, my head’s swimming. I’m… I’m guessing this has to do with Asra?”

“You’re guessing right!” Portia pushed Xixa away, causing the woman to stumble back. The redhead pointed at the witch, as if accusing her of some tremendous crime. “Coming in here, all flirty and shit! Get out of here before I shove my boot up your ass!”

“Wait, I just… I don’t know what I did wrong. I was enjoying myself.” Xixa’s lips twisted into a frown as her mind retraced the conversation. It had been the answer of her workplace that did this! They knew Asra worked there, so they thought she was up to something. This needed damage control. Quickly. “I mean, I wanted to ask about Asra after your performance – it’s so hard to get him to talk about  _anything_ –  but you guys had packed it up. When Julian got accosted by my table, I was sincerely just being nice.”

The drummer leered at Xixa, arms crossed and lips twisted nearly into a snarl. The witch thought, maybe, Portia was just going to give her the silent treatment. Her feet were about to shuffle her off, like a scolded dog, when the redhead asked an abrupt question, “What do you think of of my brother?”

“Oh, uh…” Heat licked over Xixa’s face. Her hands curled around the strap of her purse, worrying the faux leather with her nails. A more reserved part of her brain shuddered at the question. What did she think of him? She had just met him. Her intuitive side took over, though, given more free reign with a little alcohol in Xixa. The witch closed her eyes, trying to grab onto her thoughts before they disappeared, “He doesn’t seem like a bad guy. Sweet, good-natured. Kind of dorky, but I think it’s endearing.”

Xixa hadn’t realized she’d been smiling until she opened her eyes. Portia’s expression made her abundantly self-conscious. The smile drifted away, but the warmth of replaying the last hour or so in the dressing room remained. Her fingertips couldn’t help but fiddle with her purse strap.

“Alright, I believe you,” Portia grudgingly said after a beat. She adjusted her footing. “But you’re attached to the magician and I don’t want to go down that path with Jules again. So, just go.”

The witch turned to leave, but paused. Guilt swelled in her chest, even though she didn’t feel she had done anything wrong.

“Okay. Can you let him know I’m sorry?” Xixa bit at the inside of her cheek as Portia raised her eyebrows, a slight fire still burning in her blue eyes. “For upsetting him? I didn’t mean to.”

Before disappearing into the back, Portia gave a terse nod. Standing at The Garden, alone and surrounded by people, Xixa felt a cold chill climb up her spine. Tears pricked at her eyes. She had been having fun. That was rare, considering her only friend was Asra and he often left her alone. Still clutching her purse like a lifeline, Xixa made a beeline for the exit.


	3. Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian decides to cool down outside The Garden, only to spot Xixa leaving. As he debates to go back into the club or not, he notices two men approach the woman. Instinct takes over as he careens to protect the woman - friend or foe, he isn't sure - but does she need his protection?

Cool night air lapped at Julian’s skin as he stalked up and down the alleyway behind The Garden. The scent of dampness and mildew tinged the air while the light pollution from the city cast the alley in a blueish glow. His hands were flexing in and out of fists, frustrated thoughts tracing through his mind. Of course, she was an acquaintance – maybe more – of Asra’s. Of course, he’d fall right into the silly little game. Shame and annoyance clattered through his brain, adding volume to his self-deprecating thoughts.

Growling out loud in frustration, the man stopped his pacing and ran a hand through his hair. What was the point of this night? Was Asra getting some sick little laugh out of it? Was Xixa reaping some sort of vengeance for her friend?

Heaving a sigh, Julian leaned his back against the wall and glared at the street and the passerbys. Groups of people passed by the mouth of the alley. Many, giggling drunkenly and clambering down the sidewalk loudly. Some were intently watching their phone. Taxis came and went, picking up or dropping off more clubbing patrons. The sounds of engines idling was a near constant outside The Garden.

It was the sight of Xixa that made Julian’s stomach go sour. He was about ready to storm back into the club, into the quiet safety of the dressing room, when he gave pause. She was alone. No Asra, no safe group. She didn’t see him in the shadows, but her eyes were glued to her phone, the light casting a white glow on her features.

Julian watched as she ran into a couple men, who had been walking from the opposing direction. The hair on the back of his arms stood on end, worry ticking along his thoughts. Muscles along his body tensed, waiting, prepared.

She looked up at the men, her lips forming around an apology. One of them grabbed for her purse, the other for her phone and her upper arm. Xixa yelped, scrabbling in the sudden assault.

Julian didn’t have time to think. He careened down the alleyway, toward the altercation.

x x x

Being one of the only two members of Esotericana taught Xixa plenty of things. First off: defense against larger opponents was necessary in this city. She could only count a few times when someone attempted to rob the little mystic shop, but even one time was too many. However, on those occurrences, she was sober and fully capable of magic. Right now, her abilities were hit or miss. If she even thought of a spell.

Luckily, the men who accosted seemed to be far more inebriated. Survival instincts kicked in, fists connecting against bodies and faces. There was something cathartic about the scuffle, after her impromptu departure of The Garden. The weight of her purse fell off as she stepped further into the skirmish. She managed to fend off one of the men, his wounded pride taking him running off down the street. Now, she could focus her rage on the other one.

It took one slam of her knuckles against his jaw, sprawling him across the sidewalk, to finish it.

However, her adrenaline still pumped, hot and thrumming, through her veins. She puffed, prickles of rage still racing along her bones. A sudden palm landing on her shoulder triggered ‘fight’ mode, Xixa instantly assumed the first man was back for a sneak attack. Well, she’d show  _him_  to a surprise attack. Without thinking to double-check the identity of her opponent, Xixa’s subconscious called for Voltaic Dusters, commonly known as Witch’s Brass Knuckles. Magic sizzled around her knuckles – sharp and shining with ivory energy – as she swung a right hook around, sinking the magic into his side.

But… this man was much taller than before. Much, much taller. Dread rose in Xixa as her eyes dragged up his body, catching on a wide grey eye and red hair. The magic knuckle-duster suddenly cut out, but the damage was done.

Julian stumbled back in shock, until his back met the wall of the alley. He hissed in pain, hand pressed against the wound. Blood oozed between his fingers, staining the surrounding fabric of his shirt. Pain sliced up his side, like tendrils of razors.

“Oh shit,” Xixa gasped, holding up her hands, eyes wide. “I’m sorry! I thought you were the other guy!”

“I saw. I was coming to help, but you had it under control in a few seconds.” He gave her a wide, bitter smile. The look made her both cold and warm, baffling her. Julian added, a little pointedly, “I should have known you could handle yourself.”

Xixa stepped closer, hands moving toward his wound. “Let me see.”

“No, it’s fine,” he shot back. Julian sidled further into the alley, further into shadows. Fluttering heat was taking hold in his chest. He didn’t want to be close to her, right now.

“No, it’s not! I hurt you.”

By the look on his face, Xixa knew he wasn’t going to listen. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Please, I didn’t…” She sighed, frustrated. Her hand reached for his, the one covering the gash, and she gently tried to pry his hand free for a better look. “Just let me fix it.”

“Don’t touch me,” he growled, voice deepening into hostility. But there was a fraying quality to the edges of the words. He nearly shuddered as Xixa’s hand softly tried to move his. Her palm was warm and soft near his knuckles, where it lightly rested. At the back of his mind, the feel of her body sitting atop his leg flashed through his thoughts. Julian mentally cursed himself for being so susceptible to a soft, warm body.

Their gazes locked in the darkness of the alleyway. Brows lowered, determination flaring in both their eyes. Neither shifted, despite the growing, exciting throbbing resonated down their bodies.

Without a word – of apology or warning – Xixa pressed her hand firmly against his. The slick heat of his blood stuck to her palm, but Xixa ignored it. As soon as her hand landed fully on his, though, Julian gave a sharp inhale and threw his head back. He slid down the wall a little, a light groan leaving his lips. At first, Xixa wildly thought she had hurt him more or even used the poisoned witch’s knuckles.

Then, the light of passing headlights bathed them in brighter light. A red flush crossed his face, ear to ear. He bit his bottom lip in an attempt to stifle more moans. Xixa swallowed when darkness returned, a fluttering excitement fingering its way through her lower stomach. His free hand found its way to her hip, fingers gripping tightly. The same thrill from earlier ribboned down her spine.

Conflicting emotions ran along Julian’s thoughts as his hormones flared from the touch.  _She was Asra’s friend,_  but she was pretty.  _But she could be using him._ But she talked about his music and lyrics and – oohhh,  _fuck_  – he knew she was watching him, watching his reactions with concern. The thought sent another quiver down his body, accompanied with a lick of heat. If his pants didn’t feel tight before, they were squeezing the dickens out of him now.

Xixa marveled. Was he enjoying this? She shook away the odd, foggy heat clouding her thoughts. It didn’t matter if he was a masochist or not. Untreated wounds from witch defense magic were prone to infection.

Swallowing a lump in her throat, Xixa murmured a healing incantation. Gentle blue light filtered from her fingertips, sinking through Julian’s hand, and into his wound. He arched his back against the wall as the magic knitted his wound together. Her other hand went to his hip, trying to still his writhing form. Xixa bit her bottom lip, trying to concentrate despite Julian’s reaction, while a flush on her face deepened. This was too much for her. In some dark corner of her mind, though, it wasn’t enough.

Xixa was done within a few moments. Her hand lingered over his when she finished, counting his panting breaths. She couldn’t bring her eyes back to his face. He was breathing heavily and staring at her, she knew. The loud trundle of a car outside the alleyway woke her from her distraction. Pulling away, the witch shook the fuzzies from her thoughts as she wiped the blood off on her pant leg. 

She opened her mouth to say something – apologize for not fully healing him, explain her intentions in the club, complain about the dull throb at her temples – but Xixa realized nothing she had to say mattered.

She tore herself away from Julian, retrieving her fallen purse. Kneeling down, she gathered up her fallen belongings, fingers shaking. Hot excitement pulsed through her as her mind slowly replayed the last few moments. Xixa tried to ignore her mind’s lewd thoughts by checking her phone. Luckily, it hadn’t been broken during the scuffle.

No worried texts from Asra. A few spam e-mails since she left the club. Gaggle popped up, requesting information about The Garden: Is the parking good? How many stars do you give the service? Is it easily identifiable from the street?

Xixa heaved a sigh and pressed the edge of her phone to her forehead.

“Everything all right?” There was a hoarseness to Julian’s voice, as if trying to choke down his moans scraped his throat. His boots came into Xixa’s view as he shuffled toward her.

“I’ll be fine,” Xixa replied, getting to her feet. She shouldered her purse, an odd sense of surreality descending on the two of them. Just a few seconds ago, the man was writhing against a brick wall, in some fit of pleasure-pain. Now, he stood there, still flushed but looking awkward and averting his gaze. A heat great in Xixa’s chest, watching him.

Julian could feel the woman’s eyes on him. From the corner of his peripheral, it seemed she was giving him the slightest of affectionate smiles. His heart pattered a little harder. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, to be honest. Really, he should have ducked back into The Garden as soon as the witch turned away. But, she was alone and  _already_  attacked once tonight. “I can give you a ride home.”

“You don’t have to do that.” Xixa’s eyes widened, holding up her hands. She didn’t want him to think she got entangled with those men – or even stabbed him – just to further some acquaintanceship. No, it was best for her to make her way home alone. There were the Hover and Magic Carpet apps, after all.

“You didn’t have to heal me.” He tilted his head, leaning down so he was closer to Xixa’s level. “We can just call this a payment for your services.”

“It was my fault.” She pressed a hand to her chest, as if to illustrate the problem person.

“I explicitly told you not to touch me.” Julian held a finger up in Xixa’s face, shaking it slightly. Performing magic on someone, who explicitly said ‘no,’ was a punishable offense in Vesuvia. Like any other violation of consent.

Xixa’s eyes widened, her stomach twisting grossly. Heat burned at the back of her eyes. Tears, embarrassment, mortification. It didn’t matter. She was  _not_ bringing her A-game tonight. The witch felt like crying as she muttered softly, “Dammit. I’m sorry. I keep screwing things up tonight, don’t I?”

Julian hooked his finger under her chin, bringing Xixa’s eyes to meet his gaze. A charming smiled smoothed its way across his lips. “Well, there’s  _one_  thing you have screwed yet.”

“What?” It was a flat question, as if she expected his answer and did not approve. Though, from the illumination of the street lamp, Julian could make out the faintest flush crawling across her face.

That blush spurred on his answer. With a growing grin, he said, “Me giving you a nice, long ride.”

Xixa managed to keep a straight face for a half-beat. But, soon, she had to pull away from Julian’s hand and cover her smiling laughter. It was too much for her brain to handle. The flush on her face deepened, nonetheless. “You’re too much.”

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” Julian straightened his stance, folding his arms behind his back. His expression morphed into one of sincere innocence.

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Xixa raised her eyebrows, suggestively. This time, she was the one to lean toward him, though she was careful not to touch him. Her gaze swept down his body, very noticeably. “You’ve never been on the receiving ends of your…” Xixa’s eyes bounced back to his face, pleased to see a flush returning to his face, “Charisma.”

Before she could enjoy the look on his face, a sudden pang shot through her temple. Xixa winced, rubbing at her forehead. Truth be told, the thought of walking home or calling a glorified taxi service didn’t appeal to her.

Julian’s hands came up to her elbows, gently holding her. “You all right?”

“I just overdid it with drinking and magic.” Xixa should have known better. Drinking was a rare occurrence for her and she dared to down something Asra had ordered, without even knowing what it was. Then, doing a magic-heavy healing spell? Ugh. “That means, lucky you, I’ll accept your ride. If the offer is still on the table.”

The redhead glanced back at the club. Inside, Portia would be worrying about his disappearance. Though, it wasn’t unlike him to simply take off. Muriel and Valerius were less concerned with his escapes. His gaze flicked back to Xixa, watching as the woman rubbed ruefully at her temples. Exhaustion started to show under her eyes. Julian’s thoughts tumbled, for a brief moment, with all the ways Xixa’s trip home could go wrong. No, Portia would just have to understand.  

“Well, if my luck holds out, maybe I can get something else on the table.” Julian couldn’t hide his grin as Xixa snickered at his flirtation. Of course, he knew he laid it on heavy, but that was part of the fun, wasn’t it? Forget about the awkward reminders earlier, forget about the scum accosting Xixa, forget about tomorrow. Just flirt and watch her lips twist into those warm laughs. Taking Xixa’s hand, the man led her toward the parking garage.


	4. Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian gives Xixa a ride back to Esotericana. Time passes, and the woman gets an unanticipated visit from two familiar faces.

“I still can’t believe you drive a hearse!” It was the third time she had repeated her statement, laced with laughter and awe.

Julian couldn’t stop the grin that arched over his lips, thoroughly enjoying her delight. “As I’ve said before, it’s aesthetic.”

“It’s a hearse!” Xixa nearly squealed. This was absurd. If Julian was going for ‘eccentric rock star,’ he was hitting the nail on the head. “Where’d you even _get_ it?”

“I borrowed it from a funeral home.”

“ _What_?” That was even worse than just owning the vehicle. This was the car that led funeral processions and led the dead to their final resting place, and someone let Julian borrow it for – how’d he put it? - the _gothique_ aesthetic. Xixa couldn’t stop smiling from the absolute ridiculousness of it. Either Julian was pulling her leg or he was very trusted by those who knew him. “How do you _borrow_ a hearse from a funeral home?”

“Well, the hospital morgue does plenty of business with them.”

“Wait, you work at a _morgue_?” Xixa turned a curious look on Julian as the car slid to a stop at a red light. At the back of her mind, she was faintly amused by the gimmick that was Julian’s life. Her mind was racing with question after question. Maybe it was the quiet, intimacy of the car versus the crowded dressing room, or the slowly dissipating alcohol, but Xixa found herself jumping from one question to the next. She assumed, given Fire  & Leeches’s popularity, the band was his life. If not, what else did he do? “The band isn’t a full-time thing?”

“The band is part-time, _at best_.” Though Julian enjoyed the time spent with his band mates, brainstorming lyrics and performing, it wasn’t enough to pay his rent. Or buy groceries. Or those tight pants he enjoyed wearing. Oddly, a lot of the people he brought home never got this far into his personal life. A slight paranoia nibbled at his thoughts.

“Is it, like, a hobby or are you hoping it gets noticed by a recording label?”

The witch seemed full of questions as soon as they sat down in his car. Then again, it was his fault for not preparing her for the appearance of his vehicle. However, he never had this many questions from others. Though, her glee at his answers was addicting to hear, an awkward stuffiness started to accumulate on Julian’s shoulders. Asra was involved with Xixa, to some extent.

Raising an eyebrow, Julian resisted the urge to glance over at her as the traffic light flashed green. “Did Asra not tell you anything about me?”

“He’s so hard to talk to,” sighed Xixa, drawing her gaze out the window. “If I pester him too much about a topic he doesn’t want to talk about, he takes off.”

The hurt in Xixa’s tone grazed some old pain in Julian’s chest. He knew exactly what she meant. However, curiosity itched at his thoughts. Adjusting his grip on the steering wheel and adjusting n his seat, the man tried to ask as conversationally as possible, “What _has_ he said?”

“That your relationship was complicated, mostly. Though,” Xixa glanced over at Julian. Though he seemed relaxed, she knew he was hanging on her words. How couldn’t he? She lived with Asra, she knew the charm and almost otherworldly attractiveness the white-haired man possessed. And, from the few tidbits she’d received from Asra about Julian, she could imagine what was going through the redhead’s mind. As gently as possible, she finished, “He wasn’t pleased to see you at The Garden.”

A cold, unhappy chill settled in the pit of his stomach. “I suppose he wouldn’t be.”

“I’m sorry.” Xixa winced, slightly wishing she hadn’t answered Julian. She was missing fawning over the macabre aesthetic this easily-flustered man seemed to embody. “From the way Asra makes it sound, it was a rough time.”

Julian gave a bitter laugh under his breath. By this time, though, they had made it to their destination. Tucked away, between a thrift clothing store and a high-end tea shoppe, was Xixa’s home. A skinny, two-story brick building. The large, glass storefront housed an assortment of crystals, rocks, mystic books, and more; but, for now, a rich velvet curtain obscured merchandise from view. From a hanging woodcut, the name ‘Esotericana’ coiled in calligraphic text; when open, the words would flash brilliantly in an assortment of colors. Now, the letters remained dark and sleeping. Behind the curtains on the second floor – her apartment – a couple lights blazed.

Seeing home brought warm familiarity through Xixa’s body. “Thank you for the ride, Julian.”

“It was my pleasure,” he purred with a grin. He added, as a mock afterthought, “Well, maybe not getting stabbed.”

Xixa leaned back in her seat, her lips curling into a wry grin. When she didn’t say anything, Julian hazarded a glance her way. Her expression said it all. A hot thrill shot down to his core as a flush crept across his ears, daring to make its way across his face. He couldn’t hold her knowing gaze.

“I think we both know that’s a lie,” Xixa leaned across the small space that separated them. Julian tensed, the scent of her surrounding him for the moment. She placed a quick peck on his cheek, emboldened by the lingering alcohol in her veins – or maybe by his blushing.

Before she could pull back entirely, Julian’s hand came up, catching her by the back of her head. Her heart stuttered, a flush nipping at her cheeks. Their lips met in a crushing, desperate kiss. Xixa pressed into it, a sighing gasp escaping her lips as her eyes closed. Body heat raised, almost instantly, a bubble of warmth lapping at her skin. The urge to touch him arched through her brain, overriding her ‘I shouldn’t be doing this’ sense.

Her hands drifted down from his chest, down his abdomen, to the area of throbbing heat below his belt. Ambient heat licked over her skin, tantalizing and teasing. When her palm pressed over his bulge, Julian groaned into their kiss, rolling his hips toward her touch. The sound sent a deep vibration right to her core.

Julian’s free hand drifted down the side of Xixa’s body, fingers curling to grip her hip. His fingers at the back of her head tangled in her hair, sending delightful prickles across her flesh. Xixa couldn’t think straight. All the sensations, the heat, her heart pounded. After nipping at his lower lip – eliciting a shudder from the man – Xixa pulled back, breaking the kiss. Staring up at Julian, eyes drinking over his blushing features in the slight light sneaking in from a street lamp, her lips curled into a smile.

Julian cracked his eye open, gazing into Xixa’s pleased look. She looked like a cat eyeing a caged bird. It made a sharp shiver trail down his spine. She palmed his groin firmly, fingers massaging his growing hardness through his jeans. His teeth sunk into his bottom lip, choking down a moan and face heating as his hips – yet again – jerked toward her, involuntarily. Those lips of hers curled into an even more pleased smile. Blearily, he realized how heavenly this moment felt, compared to earlier.

…until the shrill scream of a phone sang out.

The two of them froze, staring at each other through their hormonal fog. Realization drilled into Xixa’s mind, especially once she realized _whose_ ringtone was playing.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Xixa gasped, breathless. She dove for her bag, riffling through it until she pulled out her glowing phone. ‘Asra’ emblazoned across the screen, calming the hormonal storm in her mind. A little prick of guilt colored her thoughts as she hit ‘silence.’ But… only a little.

Over her shoulder, Julian could see the name. Not that he hadn’t expected it. Clearing the desire out of his throat, the man sighed, “He’s probably worried.”

“I’m sorry, again.” This was like a cold shower being suddenly splashed on them. A part of Xixa wanted to scream in frustration. Another part patted her hand, consolingly, and told her it was for the best. But, she didn’t want this to be it. She didn’t want a sloppy make-out and heavy petting be the end of her interaction with Julian. “Want my number?”

“Yes! I mean-” Julian slapped a hand over his mouth, averting his gaze. His ears burned with embarrassment. He hadn’t felt this awkward and excited in a long time.

“You’re obscenely adorable, Julian.”

Her words were _not_ helping his ear situation. Trying to alleviate his mortifying reaction, he wiggled his phone out of his pocket. After an exchange of numbers, and another silenced call from Asra, the two parted ways. Julian watched Xixa until she was safely inside Esotericana, before setting his car into drive and taking off into the night.

His phone glowed from the passenger seat, buzzing with texts from Portia. Julian wasn’t paying attention though. His mind replayed every touch, ever sound, every smile while basking in the ambient heat still contained in the car. He could still feel Xixa’s body pressed against him, so warm and soft. Julian gripped at the steering wheel tightly, mentally cursing. He was in trouble, wasn’t he?

x x x

A couple weeks passed since The Garden. The night still plagued Xixa’s memories, though. Frequently, faint little memories would sneak up on her as she was re-stocking the candles or straightening the tarot cards. Red hair, a grey eye, heat where he had touched her. She’d find herself humming Fire & Leeches songs to herself, especially after she bought an album of their hits from online.

Though, Xixa had been tempted to text him the very next morning, she had resisted the urge. If he wanted to keep talking to her, he could text her. He had her number. Besides, the witch felt the ball should be in his court. Who’s to say he didn’t just drop her off – maybe getting a little too handsy thanks to alcohol – out of gratitude for the healing? With further thought, maybe he didn’t even want to talk to her, again.

The thought made a cold clutch knot through her stomach. Since a couple weeks had passed, the witch figured she had her answer. Julian of Fire & Leeches didn’t want to talk to her. Though, Xixa had opened up his number, once or twice, tempted to start a conversation herself.

The days following her little clubbing excursion had been rough. Asra had been irritable, grousing about her staying out too late and staying out alone. After a couple days, he let it go. They returned to their easy-going days: working at the shoppe, going to the farmer’s market, checking out thrift stores. Then, as he always did, Asra packed his bags and headed out.

Leaving Xixa to tend to the shop, alone. And so her days drifted in and out, lulling one into the other. Though, she found herself eyeing her phone and heaving frustrated sighs more often than before.

The little bell hanging on the front door jingled, rousing the witch from where she organized pendulums. Turning, she gave her best customer service smile – shoving down her temptations – and welcomed the newcomer, “Welcome to Esotericana. We just a shipment of…”

Xixa couldn’t finish her sentence. Memories conflicted with the two who stood in the doorway. The taller one, quiet and imposingly muscular with long hair pulled back into a bun, eyeballed the selection of books off to the side. The shorter one – it was almost a crime to even use that adjective – stood awkwardly near the door, arms crossed. He eyed the shoppe with his good eye. While their appearance in her store was jarring, it was the clothes they wore that cause Xixa to pause: they both wore pale blue scrubs and lanyards with hospital IDs around their necks.

When her brain registered that – yes – they _w_ _ere_ Muriel and Julian, a more sincere smile crossed her lips as she approached them. “I didn’t recognize you two.”

“Is Asra here?” Muriel asked, his voice deep and gentle. Julian didn’t meet Xixa’s eyes as she turned curious eyes on him.


	5. Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Muriel visit Xixa at her shoppe. Death comes to visit.

“Is Asra here?” Muriel asked, his voice deep and gentle. Julian didn’t meet Xixa’s eyes as she turned curious eyes on him. Internally, he cursed Muriel for being so forthright. Couldn’t he have handled this a little more discreetly?

She looked between the two of them, before shaking her head. Faintly, she wondered if Julian would bolt if she muttered an affirmative answer. “No, he left a few days ago. There’s a metaphysics convention somewhere up north.”

Muriel turned toward Julian, a slightly put-out edge to his voice, “Now that we’ve got that out of the way, can you manage?”

The flush finally crawled over Julian’s cheeks, feeling like he had been reprimanded for being childish. Of course, he couldn’t blame Muriel’s irritation. His friend – too – had to listen to the redhead bemoan and pine over his phone for the last couple weeks, waiting for a text from Xixa. Still, Julian puffed up a little in irritation, but nodded. Muriel, satisfied with Julian’s wordless reply, wandered off toward the books, stopping to scrutinize a wolf statue on the way.

Xixa and Julian stood by the front door, awkwardly. Neither knowing where to look. Xixa had gathered, from the exchange between the two, that Julian held apprehensions over seeing Asra. Or maybe being seen by the magician? It boiled down to the same thing, regardless.

“So,” Xixa pressed her lips together, not entirely sure how to start a sudden conversation. It was easier with alcohol. She fell back into her salesperson routine, “Are you looking for anything, in particular?”

“You, to be perfectly honest.”

“Oh,” A flare of heat crawled down the back of her neck. Xixa’s mind scrabbled for a witty retort and simply landed on, “Um, so the scrubs?”

He glanced down at his uniform. After a moment’s debate, Julian decided on his answer. “I work at the hospital. Remember?”

Xixa fingered through her memories of that night. All the things said, all the feelings. She suppressed a shudder, thinking of the touches shared, and found the words she sought, “Oh, right, your morgue connections and the hearse.”

“Not as entertaining now that you’re sober, is it?” This was something Julian feared. If all of her amusement at the Garden had been assisted with inebriation. Right now, _he_ could use a drink.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she flashed a slight smile. Her eyes took on a mischievous glint as she trailed her gaze down him. “I have many of the same opinions from that night.”

This time, the flash of heat went down Julian’s body. He averted his eye as a flush crept over his cheeks, finding his gaze trailing toward the collection of tarot cards. On impulse, he said, “So, do you do readings?”

“Allegedly, I’m the best diviner in the city. Next to Asra, but he’s hardly around, so…” Xixa finished her commentary with a shrug. As if to say, ‘it doesn’t really matter.’ In truth, it didn’t really to her. Even when she gave readings, more than half of her clients were first-timers who didn’t listen. The rest listened to her a little _too_ intently. Xixa had to establish a one reading per day rule, otherwise people were calling her up, asking her what they should order at Le Restaurant or what channel they should watch for optimum entertainment.

“Read my cards?” Julian turned his gaze toward Xixa. Only a handful of fortunetellers and witches had ever read his cards. To be honest, he was left less than impressed. Except for when Asra had done it. Julian caught Xixa’s gaze flickering to his companion with uncertainty. Following her gaze, he waved her worries away. “Muriel will be fine.”

Apprehension licked at Xixa’s mind, though. Usually, she scheduled readings for preparation. The day had been slow, but leaving Muriel to the front meant potential customers may wander in and maybe even ask him questions. She could just lock the door, but then she missed window shoppers.

The way Julian watched her, a mixture of challenge and yearning, in his eye forced Xixa’s hand, though.

“All right, follow me.” She led the way through a curtained doorway, into the back room. Compared to the front, this room had been decorated for atmosphere. A single table sat in the middle of the room, draped in a tablecloth. Lanterns hung from the ceiling, swathed in sheer draperies that seemed to be born from the walls. A squat bookshelf held Xixa’s preferred methods of divining: tarot and oracle cards or, if the mood struck her, her crystal ball. On a lower shelf, bags of runes and a case that held her pendulums sat, a little dustier. On the very top of the bookshelf, an incense burner sat next to several scents.

Julian inhaled sharply, remembering this room. Memories of when it looked different, of coming back here with the magician, ticked at his brain. Xixa didn’t seem to notice his reaction as she bent down to go through a rather extensive shelve of tarot cards.

Out of habit, Xixa reached for her most commonly used deck. However, she paused. Her first deck, and the most used, was a deck from Asra. Would Julian recognize it? Xixa didn’t want to chance upsetting him. Her fingertips skimmed over the cards, landing on a group that tugged at her energies.

As she sat down at the table, shuffling the cards in hand to charge them with her energies, she eyed Julian. He had taken a seat at the table, as to be expected. He lounged in the chair across from her, the scrubs clashing with his almost cavalier attitude. Though he seemed at ease, his eye watched her with an almost nervous intensity. Clearing her throat, Xixa managed to ask, “What would you like to ask the cards?”

“Uh…” Shit, he hadn’t really put much thought into that. “How’s the rest of my year going to go?”

Xixa tried to keep herself from wincing. It was a go-to “simple” question for the cards, from the eyes of someone unfamiliar with tarot reading. She found it so much harder, though, than simply asking what the day, week, or – at most – the month held in store. A year? It just seemed to strain the cards and herself. But, she focused her energy and shuffled the cards, gently.

She waited until her fingertips itched with energy. Flipping over a card, she quietly prayed it wasn’t ‘Lovers.’ She wasn’t going to keep a straight face if it was that card. Sometimes, this deck liked to tease her.

“Death.”

Okay, cards, let’s not go _completely_ the other way.

The two stared at Death, Julian with obviously more apprehension. He shifted in his seat, lips twisted into a frown. “So, I suppose I should start divvying up my estate?”

“It doesn’t mean it like that.” Xixa sighed. People tended to freak out when Death came calling in the cards. Picking up the Death card, she closed her eyes and focused, trying to find the best words for this particular situation. “It’s circumstantial and Death isn’t saying you’ll die. It’s about the metaphorical death of situations and feelings. Though, I can’t guarantee it won’t be painful, you’ll finally put some a big issue – or multiple issues – to rest. And then you can move on.”

When she opened her eyes, Julian’s heavy gaze studied the table cloth. Though she couldn’t see his eye, she could feel an inner struggle radiating from him.

“I actually like the Death card, to be honest.” Xixa laid the card down gently, garnering Julian’s attention. Her gaze traced the image on the familiar card. The card depicted a figure in profile, shrouded in a black cloak or coat. It wore a beak-like mask, carrying a bag in one hand and an iconic scythe in the other. Behind the figure, a cascade of glowing blue flowers, in various states of bloom, trailed after their feet. Meanwhile before them, silhouettes of sickly trees stretched before them. “Shucking old pains, overcoming, heading off into a new life, so to speak. It starts with the death of an old situation that may be problematic or simply not ideal for you.”

Sudden weight on the table made Xixa look. Julian leaned his elbow on the table, chin cupped in his hand and a masked look in his eye. His gaze fell down to the card, studying the image. “You know, plague doctors were awful human beings?”

“Oh?”

“They did all sorts of nasty things to their patients. Blood-letting, leeches, baking mercury-coated patients in an oven are just a few examples.” His other hand counted off the transgressions, before curling in on itself. “A lot of them had never been through any sort of medical training, either. Fakes.”

“I see,” Xixa smiled, slightly narrowing her eyes. Intuition was telling her Julian’s feelings were of a more personal nature, warping plague doctors into something closer to home. What the truth was, Xixa wasn’t sure. “I’m sure some were trying their best, though. To keep patients alive and well.”

Julian let out a bark of laughter, rough and loud. And none too funny. It was bitter and, to Xixa, sounded a bit self-deprecating.

Tentatively, she decided to poke at the negative energy surrounding Julian. “You seem to be in a bad mood.”

“It’s nothing,” he muttered, gaze drawing away from her.

Xixa slipped the Death card back into the deck and shuffled them. It kept her hands busy. “In my experience, my clients talking about how the reading makes them feel gives me more insight.”

Julian heaved a sigh. “It’s just so vague and there’s so many situations that could end. My job at the hospital, for starters, stresses me out. Long hours, long nights, little appreciation. Then there’s the band and general inner turmoil things. And then there’s-” Julian stopped short. He had almost spat out ‘you and Asra’ to Xixa’s face. A flush clawed across his face.

“And then there’s…?”

Something about Xixa’s soft tone drew the word from his lips. “You. You’re Asra’s… _something_ and you could be screwing with me and you didn’t even text me… Ugh!” Julian sharply leaned back in his chair, covering his eye with his hand. The chair creaked under his weight and sudden position shift. “I’m sounding like a teenager. Maybe, I shouldn’t have even come here.”

There was a beat of silence between them. Xixa’s eyes wide, not quite caught off-guard by Julian’s words – since she had shared some of the thoughts – but still surprised. Realizing the situation, soft laughter started to fall from her lips. This was like an awful romantic comedy; both being too awkward or uncertain to text back? Worries about Asra’s connection – past and present – to each other?

Julian bristled as soon as she started snickering, one word echoing in his thoughts: Leave. Suddenly, he pushed away from the table and started for the exit. The witch scurried from the table, blocking his exit and holding up her hands. Julian stopped just as her hands pressed against his chest, sending gentle tingles down his abdomen.

“Those weren’t aimed at you,” she gasped, trying to swallow down more laughter. To her, hearing Julian actually _talk_ to her about things made her somehow giddy. Living with Asra, she had forgotten how nice it was to have someone she cared about confide in her. Or suddenly bombard her with personal feelings. Plus, knowing he wanted to text, but was waiting for her, tickled at something in her. “Well, I mean, they kind of were, but also at myself.”

Julian stared down at her, face flushed and uncomprehending. He looked unsure and almost wary. Xixa hadn’t forgotten his worries over her connection to Asra. How many obnoxious movies and stories involved an ex getting revenge on another ex through a third party?

“I _wanted_ to text you, but with all the past stuff between you and Asra, I thought I should give you the opportunity to text first.” Xixa started explaining, her hands drifting from his chest when she was sure he wasn’t going to dart off. “Plus, there had been drinking that night and…” Xixa’s words trailed off, face flushing as she remembered Julian writhing against the brick wall, “ _other_ things that happened and I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to talk to me, again.”

As her rambling died down, Xixa’s gaze flickered toward the floor. She suddenly felt very juvenile _and_ vulnerable. Julian stared at her, surprised at her own personal confession. Asra had been… difficult for him. And the following dalliances had been brief distractions, one after the other; sometimes repeated.

Her imagination wouldn’t abandon the image of Julian writhing in the alleyway, though. It kept creeping up in Xixa’s mind. A tingling blush bit at her cheeks. She bit the inside of her cheek, unable to bring her eyes to him. The witch wasn’t entirely sure what she’d do, completely sober, with that image flaring through her brain.

Apparently, Julian had his own ideas. His palms brushed the sides of her face, fingers burying into her hair, and tilting Xixa’s face up toward him. The kiss came on fast, but gentle. Soft touch of lips on lips, eyes fluttering shut, heat rising. A trace of neediness slipped into the kiss, drawing the two closer together.


	6. My Dear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The trip to Esotericana concludes with a text. Then Julian gets a surprise at his next show.

Apparently, Julian had his own ideas. His palms brushed the sides of her face, fingers burying into her hair, and tilting Xixa’s face up toward him. The kiss came on fast, but gentle. Soft touch of lips on lips, eyes fluttering shut, heat rising. A trace of neediness slipped into the kiss, drawing the two closer together.

Xixa’s hands trailed up his chest, fingertips lightly skirting the border of his scrub’s low collar and chest. Blearily, through the haze of searing hormones, she knew she wanted more. The witch deepened the kiss, tugging on the collar of his shirt as she leaned up on tiptoe, invading Julian’s mouth with her tongue. Julian groaned, heat sizzling from ear to ear and straight down. His hands slipped down her body, traversing her curves, holding her close.

She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, sinking her teeth into the soft flesh. Xixa cracked her eyes open, enjoying the sight of Julian caught mid-groan and flushed a dark red, before entirely breaking the kiss. As close as she was, she could feel his heart pounding.

His eye remained closed, basking in the heat and the flashes of pleasure streaking down his body. He was completely unprepared for Xixa’s mouth on his neck. His eye snapped open, fingers digging into her hips as her teeth raked across his throat. Erotic heat pounded through his body. Her mouth moved along his neck, hot and slick. Something prodded at the back of his mind, though. Something important. He closed his eye, trying to remember this important thing while Xixa’s lips trailed over his flesh.

An angry buzzing in his pocket reminded him exactly what he’d forgotten.

“Xi-Xixa,” he rasped, through the lust. Xixa paused, humming curiously against his neck. The vibrations sent a jab of delight to his core. “I got to go. Break’s probably almost over.” _If not well passed_ , he mentally added to himself.

“Oh!” Xixa pulled away from his neck all too quickly. A chill lapped at his neck. Her hands were a little slower to part from him, but they drifted away from him. Desire-glazed eyes and pinked cheeks turned up to him, apology creasing Xixa’s brow. “Sorry, I got carried away.”

Julian chuckled, deep in his chest. “It’s my fault for starting something I couldn’t enjoy to the end.”

“Who says there would have been an end?” Xixa narrowed her eyes, challenging his goading grin. She pushed away from the man, sticking her tongue out teasingly. “Maybe, either way, I would have left you blue-balled.”

The blush had just begun to fade before Xixa’s taunting, and tongue, came out. His eye flickered down to her lips, his hormone-drenched mind imagining other uses for that tongue. Especially in the context of being teased mercilessly.

 _Ugh_ , if he didn’t get a hold on his libido, he was going to be walking into the workplace with a fevered flush and a boner. Clearing his throat, and covering his mouth with a hand, the flesh of his palm cooling his overheated face. If only slightly. Muffled by his hand, Julian muttered, “Well, maybe next time.”

“Mmm, next time.” Xixa agreed.

“Julian, our manager is asking us where we are.” Muriel’s voice drifted from the other side of the curtain.

At the reminder of work, Julian pulled the curtain aside. He pinned Muriel with a look, though his companion didn’t shift under the gaze. “Why didn’t you get me earlier?”

“It sounded like you were enjoying yourself.” Muriel shrugged and started for the door.

Julian trailed after Muriel, face burning. “You _heard_ that?”

Xixa couldn’t hear anything else as the bell on the door jingled. The front door shut with a muted ‘thock,’ quiet descended on her shop. She watched the two jog down the street, in the direction of the hospital. Julian flustered and growing redder in the face, while Muriel seemed unperturbed.

Once they were out of sight, Xixa’s hands pressed to the sides of her face as the last hour played over in her mind. A flush crept up her body as she paced back and forth. What was she doing? She was supposed to be working! _He_ was supposed to be working! Her heart pattered roughly against her sternum. But, damn, if that hadn’t felt good. Her fingers lightly touched her lips just as her phone roused her from her reverie

Grabbing her phone from her pocket, Xixa’s eyes flickered over the screen. ‘1 New Text’ it read. Narrowing her eyes against hope, she tapped the notification. After she scanned the text, a laugh bubbled out of her throat.

> Julian:
> 
> To avoid further confusion, I’m txting you now... whil getting yelled @ by my manager. I rlly shouldn’t be doing this. Hope to hear back.

Xixa couldn’t help her smile as she re-read the text. She could imagine the redhead, sitting at a table, trying to sneakily type up that hasty text while a supervisor marched, back and forth, before him. Well, if he was taking that much of a risk to text her, the least she could do was be prompt with a reply. While chewing on the inside of her cheek, Xixa got to work replying.

x x x

Julian ran his hand through his hair, irritably glancing at the door to the dressing room. She was supposed to be here half an hour ago, but still hadn’t shown up. Concern nipped at his thoughts, through the frustration and annoyance. Making his thirtieth pace of the room, he grumbled, “Where’s Portia?”

From a chair, Muriel didn’t even glance up from his book. “She texted to say she was going to be late.”

“The show’s about to start.” Julian nearly hissed in frustration. His little sister taking off before a show was never an issue before. Out of irritation, he snatched his phone from the vanity table and jabbed at it. Even if Portia hadn’t texted him with an ETA, maybe Xixa had finally replied. She hadn’t said anything for awhile that day.

“Are you still texting that girl?” Valerius grinned, though it was anything but good-humored, “I’m surprised you stuck with her this long, she must be a good fu-”

Julian had Valerius caught up by his collar before either even knew what was happening. A hot flare of almost painful anger ached down Julian’s body, his fists tightening. Valerius stared up at him, wide-eyed surprise turning into a determined scowl. His hands came to grasp Julian’s wrists, nose wrinkled with disgust. Muriel turned another page, not even deigning the scene with a look.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry!” Portia burst into their dressing room, words of apologies falling from her lips.

Julian pushed Valerius away, turning his gaze on his little sister. He stalked closer, ire evident in his body posture. “The show’s about to start! Where _were_ you?”

Portia stared up at her brother, a smug grin on her lips as her eyes flickered to the door. Julian followed her gaze, his eye widening slightly. A thrill shot down his spine. “Xixa! What are you doing here?”

“You’re welcome.” Portia purred as she passed by him, patting him on the shoulder.

“Portia came to get me. Said it was a matter of life and death.” Xixa had her arms crossed and leaned against the door’s frame. Obviously, no one was dying. In fact, the witch figured this was a scheme of Portia’s by the time they got halfway to the Rowdy Raven pub.

“You should see how he fawns over his phone when you message him,” piped Portia from the vanity table, where she applied eyeliner. She made a face in the mirror, watching her brother and Xixa in the reflection, “It’s positively sickening. The rest of us can’t stand it anymore! One of us’ll kill him if we have to go through a show like that.”

“ _Portia_ ,” Julian hissed, a flush prickling across his face. His stomach was quivering with delight, but his sister's comments dampened the heat. What would Xixa think of him?

“I can see where that’d get exhausting,” teased Xixa, as she maneuvered further into the room after closing the door. Julian threw her a look of mock betrayal. She neared Julian, a wry grin twitching across her lips. Something about that blushing face awoken a mischievous teasing beast in the witch. “Plus, I get to see how well your performance holds up when I’m completely sober.”

Julian tossed Xixa a curious, uncomprehending look. “I thought you said you were listening to our music at home?”

“Who said I was talking about the music?” Xixa’s voice dropped low as she leaned toward him. It took the man a half-beat to realize what she was implying. His face burned with embarrassing realization.

From across the room, Valerius groaned with disgust and covered his eyes. “Can you not?”

“Is that jealousy I hear, Val?” Portia taunted - without missing a beat - as she flipped her hair up, into a messy pony tail.

The man wrinkled his nose and drew back in his chair, as if Portia’s words burned. His voice was laden with absolute disgust as he sputtered, “Jealousy of _what?”_

Julian sidled behind Xixa, arms snaking around her and leaning down until his chin rested on her shoulder. “Of our love, of course. Isn’t that right, my dear?”

As Xixa’s brain scrabbled to understand what was going on, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment and her stomach knotted with uncertainty. Wasn’t that a bit too much of a proclamation? Sure, she and Julian had fun, but _love?_ Tension eked into her shoulder blades at the sudden thought.

Before Xixa – or anyone – could say another thing, someone knocked on the dressing room door: “Five minutes, eff & ell.”

xxx

After Julian escorted Xixa to a table, near the stage, he swept down to land a quick kiss on her cheek before heading back stage. The sounds of the Rowdy Raven swept over Xixa as she sat down. Her thoughts were swirling around what just happened.

 _Love?_ Xixa brushed her fingertips against her cheek. She could still feel his warm lips pressed to her skin. He melted her insides and she quite enjoyed feeling the inner heat was mutual. Could she love Julian? She had spent a long time with Asra, maybe even considered a relationship with him, _if he stuck around long enough to talk_. Apprehension fingered through her thoughts as she focused on her emotions surrounding Julian.

He was corny and sweet, as demonstrated by his texted compliments and flirtations. A bit over-dramatic, but in a way that softened her heart with fondness. He had a sense of compassion, since he – prematurely – rushed to her aid in the alleyway of the Garden. As Xixa’s thoughts mulled Julian’s character, she found herself smiling slightly. Well, at the very least, she was very fond of him…

The temptation to pull out her tarot deck and ask the cards if she was overreacting fluttered through her mind.

“Xixa! What a surprise to see you here!”

 


	7. We Need To Talk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian drops another surprise on Xixa during the show. When he approaches her afterward, she tells him they "need to talk" and drags him out to an alley.

The witch blinked, startled at the sudden interruption to her introspection. Her gaze flickered to the source just as Nadia placed a hand on her shoulder. The purple-haired woman always gave Xixa comforting and warm touches. Xixa smiled up at the imposing figure as she helped herself to a seat, settling her pink cocktail drink onto the table.

Xixa’s brain finally pieced the voice to her face. “Nadia! Good to see you.”

“So, what are you doing at this…” Nadia paused, looking around the pub. True to its name, the Rowdy Raven was full of loud raucousness and some rude gestures. The woman simply settled on, “Establishment?”

“A friend’s band is playing.”

“ _Really_ now?” Nadia raised her eyebrows, but there was a slight glint in her red eyes. “I thought only the Fire  & Leeches were playing tonight.”

A mildly forbidding miasma descended on Xixa’s intuition. Was that a mistake to talk about? Regardless, the witch knew she was in too deep. “That’s the band.”

“You do realize that Asra’s ex is part of that band?” Nadia’s eyes widened, but – despite her apparent shock – the woman took a sip of her drink.

The miasma darkened a little further. The witch’s heart pounded and her palms itched with nerves. Xixa’s mind raced for an answer to the situation. As she fell silent, Nadia stared at her with prying red eyes. She agonized over running into Nadia, over letting slip why she was there. Xixa could have very well said she was taking in the nightlife, as unlikely as that was.

“What are you doing at the Rowdy Raven, Nadia?” Xixa suddenly asked, raising her eyebrows at the elegant woman. Dressed in a dark purple cocktail dress, Nadia reminded Xixa of a rather casual imperial empress and not a barfly. “It doesn’t seem like your scene.”

“Nor yours,” Nadia replied, a contemplative look crossing her features. Turning her eyes to the stage, where Fire & Leeches were set up and, apparently, discussing a last minute detail. Her lips twitched into a slight frown, “I, too, have an acquaintance in the band. He plays bass.”

“ _Valerius_?” Xixa squawked. She couldn’t imagine Valerius and Nadia knowing each other. It seemed to surreal. Then again, Asra and Julian had been an item, so their friendships were bound to have some overlap.

The woman didn’t answer Xixa. Instead, she sipped her cocktail while staring intently at the stage. The lights were dimming and Julian seemed to be doing his introductory spiel. It seemed the conversation had ended. Turning her attention to the stage, Xixa wondered if Julian would recognize Nadia.

Xixa recognized most of the songs. Drag That Blade, a slow and oddly erotic melody with somewhat bittersweet lyrics. Bottom’s Up, a light-hearted and somewhat jokey tune. A Raven’s Warning, fast-paced and desperate and always made Xixa’s heart race with excitement. She couldn’t fully enjoy the music, though. Her eyes kept drifting back to Nadia, her expression a neutral mask.

After about nine songs, the show seemed to be winding toward its end. Xixa thanked the stars, eager to leave Nadia’s presence. As much as she enjoyed the woman’s company, this setting and situation was grinding on Xixa’s worries. She just wanted to enjoy the night with the band, particularly Julian.

“This is our last song of the night. I know, I know, you’re going to miss us.” Julian grinned as the crowd jeered and whooped. His eye drifted across the audience, lingering on Xixa. His lips twisted into a smirk, despite the dusting of pink across his cheeks. Then again, it was probably hot under those lights. “This song was inspired by a particular person I’ve met recently.”

Oh no, was he meaning her? Xixa could feel her face heating with embarrassment. From Xixa’s peripheral, she noted Nadia’s head tilt toward her, eyebrows raised. Oh gosh, she was giving Xixa her subtly judging look. The witch’s face tingled from heat and she fought the urge to sink in her chair.

Without prompting – or perhaps that’s what the discussion before the set was about – a spotlight shifted toward Xixa’s table. It landed on Nadia. Xixa held her breath, watching Nadia warily. The purple-haired woman was clutching onto her drink so tightly, Xixa thought she heard the crack of glass.

Julian’s eye widened – Portia, meanwhile, was stifling giggles – and waved a hand. “Oh, god, no, not her. She wants me dead. The other one.”

The spotlight shuddered and swung to Xixa. For a second, she forgot how to breathe. The light was blinding compared to the darkened atmosphere before. Her body heat started to rise, making her cheeks and ears tingle with a livid blush.

Xixa faintly heard Julian clear his throat, before the lilt of music began. The words blurred together, melted, became a lump in her stomach. Vaguely, she caught lyrics about dancing and pain. The witch was aware of Nadia closely watching her.

What was she supposed to do? Her mind was racing with clashing thoughts and confusing feelings.

It wasn’t until a rousing round of applause, and jeers, sounded when Xixa surfaced from her inner turmoil. The band gave parting remarks, bowed, whatever it was bands did. Xixa still hadn’t fully recovered from her shock. Thankfully, during the song the spotlight had lifted from her.

“Do you want to slip out?” Nadia’s murmur dragged Xixa the rest of the way to awareness.

The witch turned her eyes to the woman. Nadia’s lips were turned downward, but concern was clear in her red eyes. Xixa chewed the inside of her cheek, glancing toward the exit. The idea was tempting, but something kept her glued to her chair.

Nadia leaned closer, her hand on Xixa’s shoulder. “We won’t have much time, Xixa.”

“I-I’m fine,” Xixa stuttered, heat licked painfully up her throat.

“Are you sure?” Worry creased at Nadia’s brow as she comfortingly squeezed Xixa’s shoulder.

Unable to find any more words, Xixa simply nodded. Nadia didn’t have a chance to further press the issue as a newcomer approached the table. Clear distaste sounded in Nadia’s voice as she greeted him. “Devorak.”

“Nadia.” Julian nodded, before turning his attention to Xixa. Leaning down, pressing a hand to her free shoulder, he whispered, “What did you think of the song?”

Something snapped in Xixa. She couldn’t do this. Abruptly, Xixa stood, grabbing Julian by the front of his shirt. The witch bodily dragged the man from the pub, without answering his yelped inquiries.

Nadia watched with quiet pensiveness as the witch and the redhead left the pub. Once the two were out of the door, the woman remained seated, staring at the exit. Something of great import weighed down on her thoughts. Finally, she rummaged around in her purse until she found her phone.

x x x

Outside the Rowdy Raven, the cool of the night washed over Xixa. She didn’t stop at the threshold, though. She nearly charged around the corner of the building, seeking quiet refuge.

“Xixa! What’s going on?” Julian squawked. His hands gently wrapped around her shirt-grasping fist. Concern bubbled up in his thoughts. Xixa had been sitting with Nadia. Who knows what they discussed?

Finally, Xixa found a quiet place near the back of the bar. She released his shirt and took a few steps away. Turning toward him, her face still burning with mortification, she crossed her arms. “We need to talk.”

Julian’s heart sank. Oh god, what had been said? Or had _he_ done something wrong? He forced an easy-going smile to his lips, leaning back against a wall. Despite the nonchalant expression, his insides coiled with chaotic worry. “What’s on your mind?”

The witch closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She sorted through the swirl of words in her brain, trying to carefully pick her way around her feelings. “That was… That was too much.”

“What?” Julian blanched, a chill shooting through his chest. 

“Putting the spotlight on me? A song?” Confusion tensed Xixa’s muscles as her fingers tightened against her arms. Her eyes drew away from him, staring toward the darkness at the other end of the alleyway. “And what was said in the dressing room?”

Julian’s mind ricocheted with Xixa’s words. She inspired the song, giving her recognition seemed appropriate. And the dressing room? His mind rewound until he could replay the brief time spent in the back with her. Portia had arrived, he was annoyed, Xixa was there. Valerius had been disgusted, Portia had teased about jealousy, and… he said ‘ _Of our love, of course. Isn’t that right, my dear?_ ’

Oh, he fucked up, hadn’t he?

His stomach clenched and a cold shudder ran through his heart. One of Asra’s favorite complaints rang in his head: ‘clingy.’ Julian ran a hand through his hair, a desperate edge outlining his tone. Pushing himself off the wall – distancing himself away from the accusations ringing in his brain – Julian winced, “I had been joking in the dressing room!”

“But _the song_?” Xixa turned beseeching eyes toward him. Something in her trembled at the thought of Julian giving himself over to her. Entirely. It tasted like fear.

“It was true, you had inspired it.” Julian mentally floundered, running a hand through his hair. He had written the song in a flash of inspiration one slow night at work. The band had spent the last week toying with it, changing words and rhythms. With Xixa’s attendance, it seemed like a good time to debut it. Swallowing a lump in his throat, Julian shifted his weight and averted his gaze to the wall, remembering how nervous he had been to show the band those damned lyrics. “What was wrong with the spotlight?”

“You put me on the spot!” Xixa’s voice came out with a slightly hysterical laugh. Down the alley, a cat yowled in response, knocking over garbage cans. The clattering shot Xixa’s nerves with every tinny bang and clang. She took a deep breath and tried to calm her nerves. When she trusted herself to speak more levelly, she added, “I wasn’t prepared for it. I mean, couldn’t you have asked first?”

Well, that was reasonable. Julian’s bristled attitude smoothed a little. His shoulders sagged a bit as he looked away from the woman. Like a scolded child, he mumbled, “It was a last minute idea. I’m sorry.”

A bubble of quiet blossomed around them. Julian waded through his own guilt, unable to meet Xixa’s eye. The witch, on the other hand, couldn’t take her eyes from him now. Defeated and deflated, the man lost the glow he’d had from his show. She felt awful.

“It’s a lot to take all at once,” Xixa sighed, rubbing at her arms. Her gaze fell to her feet, worrying the inside of her cheek. “Asra is very hands off and, I guess, that’s what I’m used to.”

A sudden uncertainty sliced through Julian’s thoughts. Turning his gaze toward her, slowly, he narrowed his eye. There was a wary electricity buzzing in the air. Xixa noticed the changed and looked up in time to be faced with an almost accusatory question, “Are you two lovers?”


	8. Bound To Come up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian and Xixa have their conversation, touching on topics that were bound to come up.

A sudden uncertainty sliced through Julian’s thoughts. Turning his gaze toward her, slowly, he narrowed his eye. There was a wary electricity buzzing in the air. Xixa noticed the change and looked up in time to be faced with an almost accusatory question, “Are you two lovers?”

“No! But…” A flush scrabbled across Xixa’s face, memories of her own fawning over the magician teasing at her thoughts. Under Julian’s piercing gaze, she struggled to find the right words. “You spend enough time with someone and feelings can get complicated.”

“So, _you_ love him.” Julian averted his gaze again. He wasn’t sure if he could keep Xixa from seeing the look of betrayal and bitterness on his face. _Of course_ , she’d have feelings for Asra. Julian couldn’t blame her; the magician had a certain allure that still made Julian's own heart flutter. That’s probably why she approached him to begin with. That painful realization brought him no pleasure.

“I didn’t say _that_ ,” she bit out, angry with the words being put into her mouth. She had never explicitly stated her feelings about her roommate and didn't appreciate it when others did it for her. Though, she had a feeling that plenty of the other shop owner’s on her block suspected her feelings. “I _am_ fond of Asra, but I’m not sure if it’s love. He’s been there for me and he’s taught me a lot, but he’s also constantly gone.”

Emotions warred inside Julian as he watched Xixa. She had just admitted to having feelings for his ex and, still, a fuzzy warmth coiled around his heart when he watched her. At the same time, he recognized that pinched look of struggle on her face. She truly didn’t know if she loved Asra. Maybe she didn’t even know what love was. Or maybe he was projecting onto a woman who didn’t need his issues.

“Julian,” Xixa shortened the distance between them, her hands brushing against his arms. “I’m fond of you, too. Like, ridiculously fond of you. You’re just… just going too fast for me.”

For a moment, a flare of delight shot down Julian’s back. She was _ridiculously_ fond of him. That sounded promising. Then those four words chilled his warm joy: _You’re going too fast._ That had been a complaint from Asra, as well. The muscles in Julian’s arms tensed at the memory. His mind hitched on something Xixa had said, though. “He’s your _only_ friend?”

The witch shirked back a little, discontent settling in her stomach. Her only friend. It made her sound so pathetic. “I don’t get out much.”

Julian narrowed his eye. Something was wrong here. “Surely you know other people? What about your family?”

“I… It’s complicated.” Xixa ran a hand through her hair, looking away from Julian’s penetrating gaze. Whenever she talked about this, a headache plunged through her head. Asra never prodded and the other shop owners on her street knew better, probably vetted by the magician. “A large chunk of my memories are gone.”

“ _What?_ ”

 Xixa swallowed, closing her eyes. She didn't want to go through this with Julian. Let alone in an alley. But, if Julian wanted  _anything_ to do with her, he had a right to know. Didn't he? There were too many sticky questions, strange situations, where this would come up. It was just better to get it off her chest. The witch opened her eyes, biting her bottom lip under Julian's steely gaze, as she answered, “I just remember waking up a few years ago, in the alleyway behind the shoppe.”

Shock slapped across Julian's face, but Xixa ignored it. She could still see the alleyway – dingy, dirty, heaps of trash – and Asra’s concerned face hovering over her. His purple eyes brimmed with tears and his white hair a glowing beacon in the dark alley.

“Asra was huddled over me, asking if I was all right. I didn’t know who he was, at first. He explained he was my roommate, we ran the shoppe together. I had passed out or something. Hit my head.” Xixa rubbed at her temple again, trying to ignore the sickly feeling of incompetence as tears pricked at her eyes. “When we went to the doctors, they said I had amnesia. I was at the hospital for a week of observation.”

Saying it out loud, Xixa knew it was too strange for anyone to readily accept. Maybe that’s why she hesitated to go out, to make friends. Having to explain that part of her life, it would have been met with skepticism and inquiries all the time. She didn’t know what had happened to her, who had been the source of her state in the alleyway. The doctors had checked her over for signs of violation, but they assured her she was fine.

She let go of a breath she was holding. Xixa knew she wasn’t fine. Especially under his intense stare. She wanted to melt into the pavement, forget all this ever happened.

Julian’s eyebrows furrowed, face set in a serious expression of deep thought. This felt like a sucker punch. His gut twinged, painfully. When he spoke, his voice was soft, as if he were afraid speaking too loud would fracture Xixa. “You have no memories of your prior life?

“There’s snippets. Growing up, playing in a field, some animals, sitting at a desk, people looking after me…” She made a motion with her hand, before lifting her palm to her temple. A little throb kicked at her head, a warning to a greater headache brewing if she continued, “But, every time I concentrate on the memories, my head hurts. So, I don’t think about it.”

Quiet sunk between them. From the Rowdy Raven, as if to make up for Julian and Xixa’s silence, people stumbled and sang bawdy songs or told obnoxious jokes at the top of their lungs. Cars raced by along the front street. Somewhere, a garbage can clanged, followed by the squeak of rats, down a back alleyway. Yet, between them, a bubble of silence had ballooned, impermeable. Xixa chewed on her lip, uncertain of what to do. Was he angry she kept this from him? Was he stunned? Disgusted? Her heart raced, hoping he’d _say_ something and end this curious torture.

Julian didn’t say a word, though. He kept turning over her confession in his head. There had to be proof, another answer, _something_ to make sense of this sudden upheaval. No memory beyond a few years ago, Asra found her in the alley behind the shop, observation at the hospital. _The hospital_. Abruptly, Julian turned, taking two steps down the alley.

Xixa’s confused shout caused him to stop. “Where are you going, Julian?!”

“I need more information.” He paused, swallowing hard. Synapses were racing, buzzing with ideas and thoughts and plans. “I’m going to the hospital. I’ll pull up your records and-”

“Can you _do_ that?”

Julian paused, lips pressed together tightly. With his back to Xixa, he had no idea what sort of expression she wore. Astounded? Appalled? Outraged? “I can manage it. That’s what matters.”

“How do you have access to patient records?” Xixa moved toward him, stopping behind him. Her eyebrows furrowed with curiosity. “I thought you only worked in the morgue.”

Julian closed his eye and took a deep breath. This was bound to come up, at some point. Just as her memory loss would have come up, at some point. This conversation was inevitable since he wrote a song for – _inspired –_ by her _._ Especially since he wanted… more. “I’m a doctor.”

“A doctor in a band,” she replied, with a mixture of disbelief and incredulity. Xixa didn't remember Asra mentioning this tidbit. Then again, weren't doctors highly sought after from single people?

His shoulders lowered from their tensed state. Morosely, he added, “Well, I _was_ a doctor.”

“Which means you aren’t any longer,” she pressed, her mind spinning with the implications. What happened? What changed? What had he _done_?

“My credentials haven’t changed!” He spun on his heel, facing Xixa again. His fists were clenched with frustration. All the work he had put toward his doctorate – all that knowledge and experience – was still there. Just because they had taken his license didn’t mean he had lost the ability to help. “I can just… can just get my old doctor’s coat and my old ID. The people in the records office won’t know.”

Xixa’s lips pressed together, trying to keep from grinning. The level of absurdity in this man knew no bounds. “That sounds illegal.”

“It is. Patient privacy and what not.” Julian waved his hand almost dismissively, but averted his gaze, realizing how foolhardy he was being. Stampeding into the hospital for private records? Impinging the privacy of all for information about one? Still, there was an urge in him, a drive, to go forward with the plan.

“So, let me get this straight: you want to charge in there, grab my private information, and pry into my medical life?” Xixa crossed her arms, shifting her stance slightly. She cocked an eyebrow at him, still fighting against a smile. She really shouldn’t encourage this plan, after all. “You’re willing to go to jail for an answer.”

Julian opened his mouth to retort, then promptly shut it. He realized he didn’t have a good enough reply for Xixa. “I guess.”

“ _Julian_.” Despite her stern tone, the corners of Xixa’s lips continued to twitched.

“I won’t do it if you tell me not to."

Xixa stared up at him. Maybe it was the cool air finally sinking in, but relaxation eased into her bones. Now that her mind wasn’t abuzz with chaos, Xixa had a chance to analyze the situation. This man was quick to act on his feelings. Surprised by your ex’s roommate sitting on your lap? Shove them off and leave the room. Enamored and enjoying time with someone? Write and perform a song inspired by them. Find out someone you care about has severe memory loss? _Go to the fucking hospital, break in, and take a peek at their medical records._

“You’re so… outlandish and dramatic, Julian.” Xixa laughed, but a part of her wanted to know, too. Asra had been her self-proclaimed guardian, at the time. She wasn't even sure how he pulled that one off, without documentation. He handled the details while Xixa sat in the hospital, fretting over what happened to her. To say she had never been curious about her records would have been a lie. However, another part of her held her back; did she _really_ want to know what printed down?

Julian hung his head, suddenly feeling like a child. A foolish child. This intent drive had gotten him in trouble more than once, and, on one occasion, he got in trouble with the law. “I’m sorry.”

“I understand wanting to find that information.” Xixa admitted, moving closer until she could feel Julian’s body heat. “Though, I’d rather you not get in trouble by violating privacy acts.”

“Right.”

Xixa fell silent. She hadn’t been to a doctor in a long time. The week in the hospital soured her on the thought and Asra never seemed to push the aversion. Though, there was much to be said for ironic humor. ‘ _So, you’re not going to see a doctor on you own? Here, get romantically entangled with one who happens to be Asra’s ex. Hahaha._ ’ Oh, universe, you jerk.

“Maybe… maybe we shouldn’t do this.” Julian said abruptly, staring at his feet. He writhed in discomfort as Xixa’s silence progressed. She had to be angry with him, right? They weren't even together and he was 'breaking up' with her. That’s why she was so silent.

The witch’s wide eye shock latched to his face. “ _What_?”

“This.” He willed himself to look at her, his expression twinged with bitterness. Julian motioned back and forth between them. They’d never officially started dating, so Julian didn’t even have a _word_ to associate to their relationship. All he could think of, now, was rushing to the hospital to get the records or seeing Xixa’s hurt expression from earlier. One way or the other, he was going to hurt her. His heart sunk deep in his chest, into a quagmire of self-degradation. “I rush into things, make huge mistakes, give my all even when it’s not wanted. I push and people get hurt. I… I don’t think you want any of that, Xixa.”

More silence. It pierced him and brought a clamp of woe around his throat. He blinked back tears, biting his bottom lip.

“I’m perfectly fine with most of it.” Xixa said softly. “Just proclaiming love after so short an acquaintance is… excessive for me.”

Julian drooped, even more sullen than before. “See? You consider us acquaintances.”

“Oh my spirits, Julian,” Xixa huffed, reaching up and grabbing him by the sides of his face. She could see where Asra would have gotten tired of this. The magician didn’t have patience for emotional drama. Julian stared down at her with a sullen expression. Around him, the air seemed to drop a couple degrees from depression. “ _Seriously?_ ”

She didn’t give Julian a chance to respond. She pressed forward, irritation evident in her voice. “You and the others are, _literally_ , the only other people – beside Asra – I’ve felt comfortable being around, been able to drop my guard around. Do you think – _do you seriously think_ – I’d prefer loneliness to this?”

He averted his gaze, ashamed to look Xixa in the eye. “You have Asra.”

“And he’s constantly gone. Won’t even text me back, even in emergencies!” She sighed, exasperated and frustrated. Both with Julian’s current state and reliving Asra’s hands off approach to friendship. “I can text you and get a reply back within an hour, no matter what you’re doing. Work, practicing, _sleeping_.” She grinned, her heart warming as she thought of the gibberish replies she had gotten the times she texted him while he slept.

“But-”

“Okay, sure, you’re a _bit_ much. Just listen to what I’m saying, though: I don’t want to end _this_ ,” Xixa mimicked his motion earlier, her hand signaling to his chest and hers. “I don’t want you to stop being you, but talk to me before you put me on the spot, publicly. Please?”

Another bubble of silence. Julian shifted, a flush creeping over his face as Xixa stared at him. He ached to give in to her. But something stopped him from simply agreeing.

He looked down at his feet, reliving another time his quick lovestricken self had also gotten him in trouble. That crush hadn’t ended well. He mumbled, while still looking at his feet, “To be fair, the song wasn’t _necessarily_ about love.”

“Yeeeaaah,” Xixa bit her bottom lip, realizing she couldn’t recall most of the lyrics. Her mind swirled with confusion and fright, at the time, the witch hadn’t paid attention. Just _knowing_ Julian’s motivation, though, had been enough. Now, the witch wondered if she had overreacted… just a little. “I didn’t really listen to it, since I was mentally freaking out after the ‘you’re jealous of our love’ joke.”

His wide-eyed gaze snapped to her face. Her face burned with embarrassment. He opened his mouth once, snapped it closed. Finally, his eyebrows furrowed, a shit-eating grin twisting at his lips. “So, you dragged me out into an alleyway to berate me about a song that _you didn’t even listen to_?”

Julian bit his tongue to keep from adding ‘and people call _me_ dramatic.’

“I am _not_ berating you,” Xixa gasped. She crossed her arms, shoulders crammed up to her ears. “I heard some lyrics about dancing and pain. And _w_ _e both_ know how you feel about pain.”

A flush tickled over his cheeks, but Julian still squawked, “Still, you didn’t even listen to it!”

Cold awfulness sifted through Xixa’s thoughts. There was a string of rebelliousness in her synapses. Her reaction may have been a little… much, herself. However, her feelings on the matter were justified! Her lips twisted into an apologetic smile, but there was a challenging glint in her eye. “Then sing it to me now, Julian.”


	9. Promenade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julian sings ~~the song of his people~~ the song he wrote for Xixa. In an alley. Guiding her through an informal waltz through garbage.

Cold awfulness sifted through Xixa’s thoughts. There was a string of rebelliousness in her synapses. Her reaction may have been a little… much, herself. However, her feelings on the matter were justified! Her lips twisted into an apologetic smile, but there was a challenging glint in her eye. “Then sing it to me now, Julian.”

The man drew back, wincing. “I sound like rubbish without back-up.”

“Then my opinion stands.” Xixa held her chin up high, shoulders relaxing. She ignored the pinch of guilt as he sullenly stared at her.

A pout pulled at his lips. Obviously, he didn’t like her presumed thoughts on his song. A tingle clawed over his body, anticipating Xixa’s eyes on him the whole time he sang. Hell, she stared up at him now, a little smirk on her lips, and he felt like he was liquefying.

“Fine,” he grumbled, grabbing her by the shoulders and spinning her around. “But I can’t do it if you’re giving me that look.”

“ _Look?_ What look?” Xixa laughed, but Julian ignored her words. His arms locked around her, one at draped around her waist and the other over her chest. The man pulled her close to him, into the shadows. Xixa leaned back into his chest, enjoying the hold.

Anxiety clasped around his throat. Giving Xixa a private audience to a song seemed so… _intimate_. He only sang with his band, especially since his last massive break-up. Julian shook that thought away. Nope, not going down that road.

The woman settled against him, soft and pliable. The heat against his face scrabbled all the way to his ears. Why did this feel so good? Xixa brought her hands to the arm crossed over her chest, fingers coiling over his arm. She gave him a comforting squeeze. “It’s fine if you don’t want to. I was just teasing.”

Taking a deep breath, settling his nerves, Julian ignored her assurance. He couldn’t just hand her the lyrics, she should _hear_ them. Maybe this was a better format. After clearing his throat, Julian began to sing, low and soft into Xixa’s hair:

  _“Faceless people pivot about,_  
_an endless queue of empty sways._  
_Then you came, crystal-eyed_  
_and grinning,_  
_offering a flit around the way._

_Pick your poison, you crooned,”_

By this point, his wavering voice leveled out. His deep voice, coiling around the lyrics, sent gentle tremors of heat through Xixa’s body. He leaned down, lips nearly brushing Xixa’s ear. The witch resisted the urge to look at him, though his words tingled down her spine:

  _“Tango, waltz, two-step_  
_This is the agony of the dance_  
_The misery of the misstep_

 _Your hand beckons, your lips entrance,_  
_My hand’s in yours, What am I doing?”_

Julian’s hands sought hers, threading his fingers through hers. The squeeze she gave him almost made him loose his place. Closing his eye, he focused on the upcoming lyrics:

_“Your head falls to my chest, hearts_  
_thrumming drumming_  
_And you whisper,”_

Suddenly, Julian spun Xixa around to face him. His eyebrows arched, a wicked smile curving across his face. The flushed, wide-eyed expression on the witch’s face incited him. Leaning down, lyrics teasing across Xixa’s lip, Julian sang:

_“Pick your poison,_  
_Tango, waltz, two-step_  
_This is the agony of the dance_  
_The misery of the misstep.”_

Julian wrapped an arm around Xixa’s waist, pressing his other palm against her hand, fingers laced. Exciting electricity fingered through the witch, watching the way his mouth moved around the words. Her face burned, breath catching in her lungs.

He didn’t seem to notice, though. A bittersweet expression flitted into his eyes, his lips curling downward at the corners.

_“I fumble, it stings._  
_I trip, it hurts._  
_But let’s keep going, let’s dance_  
_until my legs ache, my feet bleed._  
_Let’s promenade until death frees me.”_

That devilish smirk pressed across his lips as he led Xixa into an awkward, informal semi-waltz. The witch clumsily mirrored his steps, still finding it hard to breathe.

_“Pick your poison,_  
_Tango, waltz, two-step_  
_This is the agony of the dance_  
_The misery of the misstep_  
_Let’s promenade until death frees me.”_

Julian dipped down, lips nearly catching Xixa in a kiss. Her opalescent eyes wide, catching the light from a random light in the alley. Xixa’s gaze flickered to his mouth, watching his lips form around the last lyric:

_“Let’s promenade until death frees me.”_

He finished, voice trailing off to a murmur. Xixa remained in her frozen pose, just staring and hardly breathing. Julian’s ears burned with curiosity and embarrassment. She hadn’t said anything. She must have hated it. The dancing, possibly, was a bit “much,” as well. Worries clawed at Julian’s thoughts as the silence prolonged.

With her mind a whorl, Xixa was finding it hard to say something. Anything. But her mind was a ball of pink fluff and hormones. The song hadn’t been some stereotypical proclamation of eternal love or serenade. Inspired, in obvious lyrics, by their time together. Well, Xixa thought she could live with that.

A faint blush started to dust across her cheeks. Julian raised his eyebrows, finally noting the pink hue with muted amusement. Maybe it was the lighting or his imagination. Whatever it was, Julian felt a lick of delight, nonetheless. Perhaps, this speechlessness was a good thing.

Just as Xixa opened her mouth, words finally coming to her, Valerius’s annoyed voice cut through the moment, “Are you two _seriously_ dancing in the garbage?”

The two turned as one, catching sight of the rest of the band. Portia, with cellphone drawn, snapped a picture of the two, grinning like a fool. Valerius had a bottle in hand, nose wrinkled in disgust. Behind the two, almost blending into the shadows, Muriel crossed his arms and sighed.

Mortification sliced across Julian’s face with a red splash.

“You can do better than _this_.” Valerius sneered, disgust cinching at his features as he took a swig from his beer. Though he had just been talking about dancing in the trash, Xixa had a definite feeling the man was looking at her. Previous embarrassment at their predicament morphed into red annoyance on her face.

Apparently, Xixa wasn’t the only one who caught the implication. Julian’s voice dipped down, into a dark and warning tone. “ _Valerius_.”

“No, he’s right, Julian. You can do better.” The red-head pinned one wide eye to her, looking equal parts hurt and uncertain. She eased the expression away with a grin. With her arms sliding up, looping around Julian’s neck, Xixa half pulled herself up while tugging his head down toward her. She could sense surprise radiating from their little audience. Lips close to his, her eyes hooded, the witch purred, “Take me somewhere better, Julian. Like your place.”

If possible, Julian’s eye widened even further, red tearing across his face from ear to ear. Lewd elation caressed his body at the mere thought of Xixa returning home with him. The fact the two of them were being watched wasn’t helping the burn on his face.

His sister whooped, suggestively, while snapping further incriminating photos. Valerius groaned, after a beat of shocked silence, stalking back into the Rowdy Raven for another drink. In the shadows, it was hard to tell if that upturn to Muriel’s lips was a smile or a cringe.

“But, if you don’t want to take me ho-”

Xixa didn’t even get to finish her teasing sentence. Julian’s arms had found their way around her waist, pulling her closer. The surprise washed out of his features, leaving behind a wolfish grin. Though still flushed, some roguishness seemed to get a handhold in his thoughts. “No, no, Xixa. I’d love nothing more than to _take you…_ to my place.”

The witch laughed, shaking her head, as Julian led her down the alley and toward the parking lot. Lined up with the multitude cars, his hearse sat silently waiting. She pulled closer to Julian, his arm looped through hers. Despite the excitement simmering in her veins, Xixa had one more thing to say. “I… overreacted. The song wasn’t what I thought it was. I enjoyed it, quite a bit.”

A thrill of glee shot through Julian, hearing those words. He couldn’t help teasing Xixa, though. Giving her a teasing smile, as they approached the hearse, he replied, “Happens to the best of us.”

Xixa could feel the warmth and tingling sensation of his delight, sliding off him in waves. But, of course, he chose to poke fun at her. She pursed her lips, giving the man a gentle elbow in his side as they finally made it to the vehicle. Julian opened the passenger side door for the witch, motioning for her to slide in. Before settling into her seat, Xixa couldn’t help biting out a retort. “I suppose _you’d_ know all about being dramatic.”

The witch shut the door in his face as he pressed a hand to his chest in mock shock. Through the window, she could make out Julian mouthing the word ‘ _me?_ ’ She nodded through the glass, before settling back into her seat. Her heart throbbed in her chest, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her skirt. With everything that came to light tonight – her memory loss, his occupation, and the Asra complication – she felt lighter.

As Julian settled into the driver seat, he glanced over to Xixa. “Where to?”

Though he still shuddered pleasantly at the thought of her coming home with him, their little rapport in front of the rest of the band may have been a ploy. Julian’s skepticism needed to be alleviated.

“You said you were taking me to your place.” She raised her eyebrows, wondering if Julian had changed his mind. No. That blush on his face and that glint in his eye signified wanting. An intense wanting that made her heart skip a little. He just wanted to be sure.

Julian cleared his throat, ears already burning, as he turned his attention to the steering wheel. “Okay, yes. Just checking.”

A gentle smile twisted across Xixa’s lips as Julian put the car in drive and started down the street. Her gaze flickered to her window, catching his profile in the reflection. A faint image of him in a doctor’s coat, a look of consternation flitted through her mind’s eye. She shook the image – fueled by premonition or imagination – away.

She just wanted to focus the playful heat that tickled her insides. And hope it led to something more pleasantly memorable – than a heavy discussion – for the night.

Judging from the white-knuckled grip Julian held on the steering wheel, he could use a bit of joviality, as well.


	10. Coffee

Nervous energy crawled across Julian’s whole body as he led Xixa up the stairs in his apartment building. She had been quiet since they arrived. The man stilled his chaotic thoughts, trying to imagine what was going through the witch’s mind while he unlocked the door to his home.

At the door, a familiar face greeted the two. Her tail wagged erratically as she happily bumped against Julian’s legs. The dog’s attention quickly focused on Xixa, snuffling at the woman’s knees as she followed Julian inside. After closing the door behind herself, the witch knelt down, giving the floppy-eared dog a scratch.

“You must be Brundle.” The dog’s tail wagged harder at the mention of her name and she tilted her head into Xixa’s touch. Julian watched the witch gush over the dog, flopping Brundle's long ears with enthusiastic petting, a slight grin on his lips.

“So, this is my abode.” Julian finally said, interrupting Brundle's petting session. He threw his arms out wide to the two bedroom apartment. To the left of the entryway, a living room. To the right, an open kitchen with a small dining area.

After sliding her heels off, Xixa stood and glanced around the apartment. “This seems big for one person.”

“I share it,” Julian flushed, shifting from foot to foot as he kicked off his boots. “With my sister.”

The witch had wandered toward the living room, taking a closer look at photographs on the wall. Upon hearing about his living arrangement, a flat “oh” left her lips.

Julian had motioned Brundle toward her dog bed with a wave of his hand. The canine gave a doleful look, before trotting to the cushion. Catching Xixa’s single-word reply, a prickle of inadequacy clenched at his stomach. “Oh?”

Xixa glanced up at Julian, a wry grin curling at her lips as she returned to his side, “That means Portia will be here in the morning.”

His ears burned at the implication. His sister’s teasing didn’t bother him, he’d lived with it all his life. However, Xixa had basically stated she’d be staying the night. This wasn’t just a trip to his apartment, for curiosity sakes. After what happened at the Rowdy Raven, Julian thought she _wouldn’t_ be keen on pressing farther into the relationship. Maybe he was overthinking the comment.

“So, how about you show me around?” Xixa smiled, rocking back on her heels. Something playful had lit up in her thoughts. She wanted to have fun with Julian. The evening had been laced with heaviness, she wanted something… purely delightful. Maybe it stemmed from a wish to make up for her earlier reactions or maybe just to show him how much she enjoyed his company.

“O-okay.” He felt weak under her gaze and her smile. A ball of tight yearning nudged at him, urging him to flirt, to smile, to touch. Trying to distance himself from the desires, Julian pressed forward with a short tour.

The apartment, really, wasn’t large enough to get lost in. However, Julian knew that line. He had _used_ that line in other circumstances, simply to get to a bedroom. His stomach knotted with excitement as he led Xixa through the living room, the kitchen, down the hall, passed the bathroom, and – finally – toward his room. All the while, he tried to cool down his proactive fervor. Her words from earlier, about going slow, chilled his thoughts. She could, very well, just be innocently interested in his living space.

Stars, he hoped it wasn’t just that.

Opening the door, he gave Xixa a mock bow and waved her in. The woman rolled her eyes, but smiled and stepped over the threshold, trying to make out the shapes in the dark until Julian flipped the light on. There was nothing particularly spectacular about the room. An unmade bed, half-covered with a rumpled cranberry-colored comforter. Above the bed, a curtained window. A bookcase filled with paperbacks, hardbacks, and even medical textbooks, lined up in sloppy rows. An acoustic guitar sat in the corner, shiny and well-kept. Wrinkled clothes overflowed from a nearby hamper.

Xixa didn’t pay particular mind to her surroundings. Her thoughts revolved around Julian, keeping track of his fidgety movements while her own heart sped with anticipation. She trod closer to the bed, dropping her purse before she boldly flopped back on the bed. Julian’s scent surrounded her, infused with the pillow and blankets. A tingle rushed down her back, faintly wondering how many times Julian had laid right there while texting her. And what _other_ things he’d been doing. Xixa shook the thought away, heat building in her.

The closing of the bedroom door caught her ear. Propping herself up on her elbows, Xixa watched Julian shuffle across the room, hesitancy corralling his movements. She wondered how many of his thoughts mirrored – to some degree – her own. The red tinge on his ears, slowly bleeding over his face, made the mood of those thoughts clear. A wave of glee shot through Xixa. It warmed her to see every little emotion passing through his features.

Creasing his brow, was uncertain restraint, he idled beside the bed, hands awkward and shoulders tense.

“You going to join me?” Xixa stared up at him, her words soft.

The man visibly swallowed, lowering himself to the very edge of the bed. Stiffness making his movements almost marionette-like.

“What’s wrong?”

“Truthfully?” He turned his gaze to Xixa, a shamefulness tinging his roguish grin. “I’m trying to be good.”

Trying to be good? Xixa blinked, tilting her head to the side. Her gaze flickered up and down him, noticing the buffer of space he kept between their bodies. Had their earlier talk affected him? She nearly sighed, recalling the tense words from earlier. Of course, she had straight-up said he was going too fast for her. Now she was lounging on his bed, dirty thoughts painting her imagination. She realized he hadn’t even touched her, upon reaching the apartment.

Well, that wasn’t going to do. Xixa pushed herself into a sitting position, crawling across the small bed to Julian. Playfulness burned steadily in the witch. Her fingers itched to touch Julian, feel his warmth under her fingers, _under her._

“Julian, I know we’ve talked about a lot tonight, but I have one more question.” She tilted her head, leaning toward Julian. He turned a curious eye to her, but didn’t say anything. Frozen with restraint, fingers twitching to touch her and a blush that betrayed his thoughts. Raising her hand to his cheek, Xixa traced her fingertips along his jaw, thumb grazing the man’s lips. Xixa’s gaze fell to those lips, bottom lip dimpled by his worrying teeth. “Do you want me?”

His eye widened, her words sinking like a searing brand in his mind. Warm breath caught in his chest, but Julian managed to nod his head. The ache in his chest throbbed, resonating southward as Xixa stroked toward his ear. In a soft, rushed voice – intense with longing – Julian breathed, “Yes, more than anything right now.”

“Then you’re good,” Xixa grinned, crawling into Julian’s lap. The skirt of her dress rode up her thigh as the woman settled into her straddle. She caught Julian’s gaze watching the fabric inch up her tantalizing flesh, his eye darkening with desire. Grabbing him by the front of his shirt, pressing her breasts flush against his chest as she pulled him closer, Xixa purred against his lips, “I want you, too.”

A surge of heat flooded Julian’s senses at those four words. Restraint cracked and buckled. His hands abandoned the bed sheet, one clasping to Xixa’s hip and the other to the back of her head. Surprise eked out of the witch as the doctor caught her lips against his. Her eyes fluttered shut, fingers tightening on his shirt, pressing down against his growing arousal.

Electric excitement thrummed through the couple, hearts pounding. Heat pressed down on the room. The previous somberness washed away under the burning passion. Their focus on each other, both needing the touches, the kisses, the release.

Intent on the feel of the other, the sounds of the other, neither heard Xixa’s phone going off in her purse.

 

X X X

“Geez, Ilya, put on a shirt.”

Julian flushed at the sound of his sister’s voice. He thought she’d be sleeping in. After shows, especially at the Rowdy Raven, she’d return sopping in drink and greeting the next morning from the toilet bowl, nursing a massive hangover. With his back turned to Portia, only the scratches were visible to her. The passion-induced injuries prickled at the sudden acknowledgement.

She hadn’t seen his front, yet. His neck throbbed with the multitude of hickeys that ran from his neck, his chest, and further southward.

Julian glanced at his morning brew, the digital clock informing him of his fate. His coffee wasn’t going to be done quick enough to suddenly bolt. There was no avoiding it. Clearing his throat, Julian turned to face his sister. His ears were already burning, imagining the ridicule and knowing glint in her eye.

“Oh, _wow_ ,” Portia’s eyes flickered over his well-won ‘wounds’ as an impish look crossed her features, “I suppose that song was a success, huh?”

“That wasn’t my intention.” Julian crossed his arms, though it did little to cover the hickeys. “And it wasn’t well-received at first.”

Portia was already falling into her breakfast routine. As she traversed from utensil draw to fridge, retrieving a spoon and carton of milk respectively. “What do you mean?”

“I… upset her.” He sighed, reaching for a bowl from the cupboard for Portia. His actions were forged from habit, from when they were young and she too short to reach anything. He neared the table, putting the bowl down. “Between the joking in the dressing room, the spotlight, and the song, Xixa felt I was going too fast for her.”

Portia made a slight humming sound as she poured the cereal and milk. She turned a smile to her brother, throwing him her signature wink, pointing her spoon at him. “Well, even so, it all worked out.”

“After she had me sing the song to her.”

“Is that why you two were dancing in the alley?” Portia laughed, sitting down at the table.

“Yes." Julian's shoulders inched up to his ears, his crossed arms hugging tightly around him. A flurry of emotions roiled through him. Embarrassment, elation, residual drama.

The red-headed woman smiled broadly, spooning a lump of faux fruit cereal into her mouth. As she chewed, her grin melted. Julian’s attention had flicked to the coffee maker, impatient to return to his room. After swallowing her food, Portia cleared her throat, gaining her brother’s attention. “I wanted to mention something to you, too.”

Curiosity flickered through Julian’s eye, but he remained silent. The things his little sister mentioned were usually of note. When she wasn’t ragging on him, at least.

The younger sibling bit her lip, toying with her spoon as she said, “I saw Valerius talking to Nadia last night.”

“Yeah, she was sitting with Xixa.” This wasn’t a huge revelation to him. Hadn’t Portia noticed Nadia during the spotlight display?

“Yeah, but I think he was talking about what he saw or heard. _In the alleyway._ ” The way Portia emphasized her last three words made the point clear. Valerius snitched to Nadia about Xixa and asra. Julian couldn’t imagine why that mattered. All parties knew of his interactions with the witch, to some extent. “And Nadia was on her phone, texting someone.”

“So?” He didn’t understand the problem. People texted all the time.

Portia pursed her lips, displeased with Julian’s slowness. However, he _had_ had a late, physically exhausting, night. “Well, you know how protective she is of Asra.”

Julian’s eye widened as a cold spear shot through his gut. Vague alarms went off in the back of his head, mutedly. “…oh.”

His head suddenly flooded with questions and concerns. Did Asra know? Did he not know? How would the magician take this sudden information? Was Asra going to do something? Or would he abide by Xixa’s interpretation of his own ex? Absently, Julian pressed his fingers into the palm of his right hand, a ghost chill slicing over his palm. The warning bells in his thoughts seemed to be sounding louder, higher pitched, nearly screaming.

“Coffee’s ready, Julian.”


End file.
